Running up the fine sand hill, each step sinking and trying to pull her back as far as she moved forward, the woman clambered to the top of the hot dune and stood there, sweat and the glare of the shimmering water stinging her eyes. The salty breeze picked up sand to scratch her arms and neck and whip her curls against her face. Her boots were full of sand. She breathed in deeply and shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool air against her skin, uncaring of the grit gathering in her hair and the back of her robes. Then she glided down the dune towards the water, grinning, quickly unlacing her boots so that her feet were kissing the sand. As she ran towards the water she tugged at her belt. Her robes discarded and pants flung aside, she waded knee deep through the foaming water until it reached the top of her underwear. She turned her back to the ocean, taking in the shoreline she so often jogged along in the afternoons. She would longingly watch the languid water lurch onto the shore. For all her years, she had never dared swim in these waters. Holding her arms out, she fell back into the cool water and floated, closing her eyes.
"Knowledge?"
Sitting up in the shallows, her eyes adjusting to the bright light, she stared. The water was pink, then white, then silver. The beach was gone, the sky was gone, and she was in a familiar flowing river of rainbow that stretched eternally around her. Studying the pattern of the woven green breeches before her, her eyes followed them up past the knees to the knitted tunic and bone necklace. The brightness of the white haze surrounding them made her blink hard in the glare of trying to see his face. Water dripped from her bare thighs as she stood up.
Solas looked as intrigued as her, but it was not her lack of clothing that startled him.
"Your eyes."
He reached to her, a finger tracing in front of her temples, so close to touching her that her skin prickled underneath each swirl of movement mimicking the tattoo designs.
"Asha."
"Yes."
"You are…yourself?"
"It feels like it. Except. Also not," she said slowly, looking down at her arms and hands.
Solas looked around at the endless whiteness and rainbow waters. "How do you feel?"
She hesitated, still inspecting herself. "I feel like I'm in a dream. Which, I know I am. I used to dream like this, knowing it was a dream. Things are real and not, right? This is the Fade?"
He pondered this question. "Yes, you are correct there to a point. Actions here could affect the real world; however, as you say, we are in a dream. And these dreams are based on memories as well. Memories can be truths and nontruths. And also because we are in a dream we can create and cause events to occur. Say, for example, if you were to produce clothes."
Her shoulders shook with laughter as she imagined the first outfit she could, and was suddenly wearing her training tunic and breeches.
The water, the library, the Inquisition. Training, Knowledge, magic. The memories of the last gruelling month of being completely detached of control from her own body were there, and though she felt she should be lapping up her freedom and enjoying saying what she wanted –it would not last. But she didn't want to scream into her hands as she did when she couldn't even scratch her own nose at her whim. Dream logic determined she could be here, in control, and also accept she would return back to her prison within herself. The fact that she had been back home swimming for the first time in the open ocean, that she knew, that everyone knew, you did not swim in.
The elf stared at her, tracing her eyes with his. Rolling her sleeves up evenly, she took her time doing this as she felt him watching her every move. She could almost hear the thoughts speeding through his head.
"What?" she asked after he didn't say anything for a time.
"If you are separated from Knowledge, she should also appear."
"I've been here before. I met Knowledge in a library from here."
They wandered through the shimmering river as Asha retold her first encounter with the spirit.
"It was like I went from here to there. It just happened." She stopped, looked down at the waters around her legs, frowning. "I think it was down."
They both studied the shimmer of their feet in the opalescent liquid. She was thankful for the lack of raining books this time, remembering explaining the fiction of the novel that Knowledge had treasured. The spirit questioned every aspect of it until she had a headache from sharing all the science and history of her world that she knew through thoughts and memories.
Asha's temples furrowed with her little smile, as if she wasn't sure about smiling. The tall elf went to ask but then they were falling into darkness, the roaring in their ears reaching to a pitch so high that they shut their eyes tightly. Her body bumped his as he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. And as sudden as they fell, they stopped.
The floor was littered with tomes and pages of books, charred and greying in a sea of ripped and burnt parchment; ashes floating in the air, frozen. Asha looked around her, slipping from the stack of books she was on and she felt the tug of Solas' hand still around her arm. He did not seem to realise, transfixed absolutely by their surroundings. He meandered off towards what should have been the mammoth wooden doors, the walls completely obliterated at the entrance as if a giant had broken its way into the old structure. Stepping gingerly from hard cover to hard cover, Asha cringed as she followed; the act completely sacrilegious no matter whether the books were real or not.
Another realm greeted them as they left the dusty confines of the library. At the ledge of the floating land in the space and void of grey and green, facing the other floating lands that defied the law of gravity and challenged Asha's belief that they were looking up – for maybe they were looking down and the other floating lands were the right way up instead – Knowledge hovered, glowing and glittering as an ethereal spirit. She turned, seemingly facing the elf as he approached her.
"Andaran atish'an, Solas."
"Andaran atish'an, Dirthalen."
Asha neared them, mouth open in awe, stopping a few paces from Solas. He stood next to the spirit, their backs to her but slightly turned in expectation.
"It is being lost. I carry it all with me, and without it this place cannot exist for much longer. Soon it will crumble like the others. Soon there will not be many fractions left."
"We will repair it. All will not be lost, my friend."
"No, that is true. Parts will remain. But not all. It will never be the same. That is evident." Knowledge turned to the human behind them. "Asha. I hope this helps. It is good to be…myself."
She took a step forward, but Asha did not want to get too close to both the spirit and the ledge. Their conversation in Elven echoed in her head, the rhythmical words as understandable as their common tongue. "What happened here?"
The spirit seemed to sigh. "This remainder of the Vir Dirthara will not sustain without my presence. I was its keeper. As we were ripped out and taken from here and as our bond was sealed, it also sealed parts of ourselves within. I cannot remain here, nor can I repair it without being released from your body. Just as you cannot seem to delve further into your abilities as well. This is the first time we have entered the Fade in our dreams because we are physically close you," the spirit said, turning to Solas.
"You mean we can't enter the Fade ourselves in our own dream? That we're blocking each other out?" Asha asked flicking her finger between herself and the spirit. "But we've been living in the Mage Tower – we're surrounded by other mages. Could it be possible we have been dreamwalking and not remembering it?"
"No. You would remember these dreams. And you have not been entering the Fade because you have not been sleeping next to any of them," Solas said pointedly.
Asha raised her brows at the elf. "That could be arranged, if Knowledge could acquiesce."
The spirit said nothing.
"So, this whole time...we could've been here? Does this then explain why we've been so terrible at spell-casting? Could Knowledge not stay to fix – this?" The woman nudged her head towards where they had appeared in the flurry of ashes and books.
"That would mean you would be sleeping forever at this point." Solas crossed his arms, looking from Asha to the spirit. The woman was tapping her foot as she thought to herself. The questions piled, but she wanted to ponder them without intrusion from the spirit, focussed on the ground. Her eyes suddenly locked onto his, feeling his gaze, sharing a glance.
"So," she eventually said, "what should we do while we're here for this time? Unless we're planning on sleeping together often."
Knowledge sighed as Solas chuckled. "While we are travelling to Halamshiral, this is the perfect time to ensure you are enlightened about the political situation of Orlais and Ferelden. Let's explore through these pathways as we do so. I would like to see as much as I can." Holding his hand up, floating pieces of debris formed a makeshift bridge from the ledge, and he stepped over it walking across to another setting of dead trees and paved floors that had lazily floated up before them.
Asha didn't even try to explain Vivienne and Fiona have been 'guiding' her and Knowledge through topics of discussion and how to civilly discuss life with those at the Winter Palace. Each woman held their own agenda in their weighted words – Asha and Knowledge agreed between themselves to avoid as much alignment as possible with either of them in public.
Knowledge soared across before Solas. Looking over his shoulder to the woman, she took a deep breath and focussed on her mentor who stood on the other bank, facing her with his hands behind his back. She recognised that stance. The stance of discussing all that could be discussed and more, no questions off-limits, honest opinions and logic applied. The stance of patience. The stance she often took at the back of her classroom as she admired her students working diligently –the moment as rare as diamonds for some lessons. She hastily jogged over the indefinite bridge, not daring to look down away from his grey eyes; grey like the last ashes of burnt pages.
-0-
Asha sat up in her bedroll so quickly she almost rolled forward towards the glowing embers of the campfire. Blinking profusely and shaking her head, ascertaining the reality around her of the grey dawn, grey trees and grey eyes that appeared as she blinked; her body ached, seemingly bruised all over. Her neck almost pulled when she spun to see Solas stirring in his own bedroll next to her. He groggily sat up and leaned on his knees, a hand rubbing his eye.
Her eyes were brown and tattoos faded grey. Before he could mutter a word – a launching of lizards splattered his head. Asha managed to bat the two aimed straight for her face with disgust – "The Hell!"- one sizzling on the hot charcoal.
"You ruined it!" hissed Sera from behind. She was standing above them, uncaring of the members of the Inquisition beginning to stir from their bedrolls in the clearing they were camped, some peeking from under their dew shelters. She dusted her hands on her tattered clothes. "I've been planning that you know-" her words were cut off as Asha launched out of her bedroll towards the Elven girl, curly mass of hair stuck in all directions. With a swift hand she cast a blaze of fire into the air before her as she threw a punch at the elf. She missed, the fire ball exploded between them and the blonde girl jumped back out of the heat. But the smell of singed hair made her nose curl as she glowered at Asha, her dagger shining in her hand. Solas – suddenly quite awake after swiping the creatures from himself yelled, "No!"
Asha, with both hands raised, ready to cast all she could force towards the elf, froze. She shot a look at her mentor. He shook his head. She crossed her hands into her arms and stood back, her furious eyes fixed on the blonde elf with a scrunched up face back at her. Their fury sizzled in the air between them.
From behind, Varric and Bull were gathered with the Inquisition soldiers, some at arms, others wary, all now quite awake as they watched.
Sera wasn't finished. "You better frickin' watch it, whatever you are. If you can't take a joke-" she stopped as ice grew instantly up her body and over her mouth. Asha's finger was raised to her lips at the elf, still smoking with the frosty casting before she folded her arms again. Varric spluttered a covered laugh and Bull's eye widened, impressed and eager to see more.
"What is this?" demanded a severe voice. The Inquisition soldiers drew to attention without falter, making way for Seeker Pentaghast as she stepped through them, eyeing each person up and following their indicative glances to the causes of the early morning commotion.
Even without her full set of armour on, she was a formidable force. Looking from Solas to the tanned woman beside him, then to the frozen block of Sera, she ordered compliance without speaking a word. With a reluctant gesture of her hand Asha defrosted her. She swayed from the sudden release, her frozen words suddenly announced to everyone as, "Frickin' bitch!"
Sera shook the cold off, quickly adding, "Not you Seeker, obviously," then glared at Asha.
Cassandra inspected Solas' companion, drawing closer to her, comprehension drawing across her face as he confirmed her suspicions with a look. Seeker Pentaghast rounded on the woman.
"When did this happen?"
"I woke up like this," Asha said.
"And Knowledge?"
"I can't hear her." With a puzzled expression, Asha turned her head to the side, looking down, listening. "I haven't heard her. Knowledge?" No response came.
"And why did this happen?" Cassandra indicated to Sera who was now walking off towards the packed horses and second camp of the Inquisitor and his councilmen nearby. It was unclear whether she flipped them off or quickly waved over her back, her muttering trailing off. Asha breathed out deeply, her hands relaxing from digging into her arms, her lip tender from where she had bitten the corner.
"She threw lizards at us. I threw fire at her. It was…completely ridiculous. Sorry," she said loudly to everyone around them. The blank faces of the Inquisition soldiers and the sheltered and not-so-sheltered smirks from Varric and The Iron Bull made her look away from them rather quickly, her neck flaring up.
"Well clearly we need to work on a little more restraint when dealing with the likes of Sera. If you're going to be brash at everyone who says something to you, you will soon have a mob after you," Cassandra pointed out sternly. "We don't have time for this silly in-fighting, so get along. That is my recommendation if you are going to be with us." Turning to the rest of the Inquisition she ordered for them to move out.
Asha couldn't help but smile as she packed her bedroll and helped dispose of the camp. She could walk. She could talk. She didn't know what exactly to say to anyone else, so followed Solas' conduct of packing their own equipment into their bags, staffs secured into carts – "To withhold prejudice from travellers," the elf explained – but it soon dawned on her how much she had not actually experienced when it came to saddling up.
Knowledge was good with horses. The spirit had no skill with them, but she was not spooked by their size or the way they whiffed a neigh and shook their hair as they trotted alongside Solas who was ponying theirs. On the other hand, as the caravans were attached and horses were saddled, Solas brought their Ferelden breeds along and Asha's heart quickened. She tried to approach hers but it whinnied – rearing its head back. Solas quickly stroked the horse, a muttering in its ears, and he helped ease the woman into the saddle after it had calmed down.
"We will need to work on this. They sense your unsteadiness. Just relax," he said as he stroked the horse's hair soothing into their ear, all the while a hand still on Asha's lower back from helping her up, as if to soothe her as well. Then he took the reins and mounted his with ease, directing them both to follow the procession of the Inquisition as they made their way through the thin forest towards the open road. It was difficult to relax when everything was hurting, but the elf's strategy worked with her mount. Soon she was not feeling as erratic as before. It didn't stop the bruising of her body from aching with each trot of the horse. No one had ever said to her that horse riding was an unpleasant experience – she felt betrayed by her students' gushes of pleasure and faraway looks when she'd listen to their stories of ventures on weekends and training ponies at their farms after school. Liars.
-0-
Hawke was never the hero Sariel had envisioned from the stories they had heard and read. For one, he was a grim-faced and unshaven man with hair of black ink. Secondly, as he threw his jacket behind him and dismounted from his black horse, the Champion's eyes held no friendly greeting, glinting as sharply as the two blade hilts on his back. He only nodded recognition to Sariel and the Warden called Stroud, but a hand clasp to Varric and a smile in his eyes to the dwarf showed he was not completely without heart. Thirdly, he was as covert as Cole, steeling away from the Warden, Sariel and his agents during their meeting.
Gathered around a makeshift table of crates, the Inquisition paused their journey to Halamshiral only for the arranged conference with Stroud and Hawke after two days of swift riding. The Chargers left their reports with The Iron Bull and continued back to Skyhold after leading the men to the small meeting spot, disappearing off the Imperial Highway back into the mountainous tracks where the Inquisition had arrived from that morning. Dark stormy clouds rolled in as the meeting formed.
"Clarel is not herself, she would never come to these conclusions on her own," the Warden was explaining, scratching his beard. "The Calling still beckons us all. It chills my bones to think I have heard it so early…and yet I cannot help but think we cannot go along with blood sacrifice to summon demons to end it all."
"It is conveniently happening after Corypheus has revealed himself to us," Cassandra said.
"What would happen if this demon army of theirs was successful in killing the Old Gods?" Sariel ventured. "Would it truly end all the darkspawn? Future Blights?"
"You mean if blood sacrificing to summon a demon army that does not turn on them actually works? Who knows," muttered Stroud, shaking his head at the ground.
"Most likely more chaos for this world to encounter than ever before," said Cassandra. "Let's not let them actually succeed in their demon army first."
"The Calling is drawing us to the West only from yesterday – it has only become strong enough to sense where we are to collect," said the Warden. "From where we've been placed in Thedas, it will take another two weeks before the majority of us are there. I will go ahead to the Western Approach – I believe you have camps on the way?"
The Inquisitor nodded and Leliana stepped in, mapping out the safest routes on parchment. As she scribbled the last camp location onto the sheer paper, retracing the map and passing it to Stroud, Sariel looked around them, confused.
"Where is Hawke?"
The sudden flare of a barrier shot out from the camp behind them, and their papers and seats were discarded for their swords and weapons in hand as Stroud, Sariel and his agents bolted towards it. The camp's attention was caught for the second time that day on Solas' charge, however they stood back, not intervening.
Varric was calling out to them as the Inquistor drew closer, "He didn't do anything!"
They saw the back of Hawke as he stood tall before Asha who was flinched away from him; her jacket was off one shoulder as if she had been taking it off. Her hands were raised, staffless but ready to cast. Her barrier flared before her. He was saying something to her, making her scoff, perplexed at the dark-haired man. She saw the Inquisitor and his men approaching and then at Hawke, stepping even further back but putting down her hands. Her barrier did not dwindle.
The Champion turned to meet the elf eye-to-eye. "I wanted to meet your possessed mage for myself, Inquisitor."
"You came out of nowhere," said the woman, looking from Hawke to the elf. "I've already burnt and frozen someone today."
"There's no need to sneak up on anyone here," said Sariel, frowning towards Asha. "Garrett Hawke here is a friend of the Inquisition."
With a deep breath, Asha's barrier dissipated slowly before her. She inspected the dark-haired man up and down. He reminded her of a pirate, his gaunt face also returning the inspection, his thin lips shrewdly turned as if he had chewed something bitter.
"Mind you watch her closely, Inquisitor," he muttered to Sariel. "It is a huge risk you are taking, trusting her. But you already know that." He shrugged, wandering over to Stroud. "So, what did we decide?"
As the camp relaxed around them, and the finalities drawn between Stroud and Hawke, the Inquisitor approached Asha while his agents were distracted with the Champion and the Warden.
"What happened?"
"He really did just appear. I was stretching, no one was near me. Then all of a sudden, there he was," she said, animating her words with her hands. "I nearly set him on fire."
"I did hear about this morning," he said disconcertedly.
She held her head up at him, her eyes wary as she held his. She did not reply.
Sariel sighed. "If you stay on her good side, Sera is harmless."
The woman raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Does she have a good side?"
He shook his head with a silent laugh as the camp began to pack up around them; the purpose of their break was over, and they were to continue to the Winter Palace along the Highway, Hawke and Stroud breaking off from their troupe to travel further westward on their own.
"Inquisitor, two things," said Asha as he began to turn. "First: he asked what was I really here for." She watched a few men gather their bags of food and water that they had shared around during their break, then head back to the carriages and horses. "He said that I better leave if I was planning anything of misfortune." She frowned at the Inquisitor. "But obviously, that's probably common with me at the moment. There is no other way to convince anyone further besides what we're doing already."
"What does Knowledge think of this?"
"I don't know. I haven't heard her yet," she said, her brows furrowing further together. "But, Inquisitor. It's clear he doesn't want me here."
"He may not, but here you are." It was then that Sariel realised why he felt so uncomfortable around her – it was the highest amount of emotion he had witnessed on this woman's face that he had ever seen. He had grown so used to the spirit's vague attitude and expressionless face with white eyes that looking into Asha's eyes the colour of red bark whose voice was clear and projected, who stood straight-backed with authority. Gone was the ambient blank stare of the spirit, the aloof air of her movements now direct, as were her eyes.
"Yes, I am here, for now. Which in any case, my second point is: thank you." She had folded her long jacket and held it in her crossed arms. "I can actually say it for myself. Thank you for helping me. I didn't expect this much since you are in the middle of a war and all this," she waved around them, "-unrest. So, thank you." She bowed her head to him as she had noted was customary for anyone speaking to the Inquisitor.
But she saw the flash of a cringe before he nodded down at her, and took his leave. Left standing in the emptied clearing, she sighed. Being back in control was exhausting. She rebelted her satchels on her side and tied her hair that had grown a little longer into a half ponytail. As she wandered through the thin woods following the other troops towards their horses closer to the roads, she found Solas animatedly in discussion with Dorian Pavus, the Necromancer.
Dorian's 'unicorn' as he called it, breathed a neigh towards the nearing woman, and both men turned.
"Calm is key, Asha," said Solas as she drew near, keeping his eyes on the mount's face as he heard her steps slowing down to a meander. "They will always mimic your emotions unless frightened by something else."
She reached a hand up to the mount, and Dorian said, "Oh. It's not her."
Solas watched Knowledge pat the skin of the dead mount, her eyes filled with the whiteness of the Fade where Asha and Solas had been.
"She is fine," the spirit said before he could ask. "She is happy I will be riding this next part. Also," she turned her head to face both men, a seriousness to her face that Knowledge usually did not hold, "Hawke may want to kill us. But the Inquisitor knows."
"Oh. Well that's good. That the Inquisitor knows, not that Hawke wants you dead," said Dorian. "Why does he want you dead?"
"She houses a spirit; most people wanted her dead. Of course there are some that still do," Solas muttered the last part to himself.
"I don't understand why the man would care about her – how much does he know?" said Dorian as they saddled up, Solas holding both sets of reins as Knowledge and Asha were ponied again by the elf.
We should probably learn how to ride, thought Asha.
"Agreed," whispered the spirt.
"Everything that the Inquisitor would have told him, I suspect."
"Wait. Hawke's partner was a mage," thought Dorian. "Is it true – was he the same mage that blew up the chantry in Kirkwall?" The men sped their horses up to keep in speed with the rest of the Inquisition's mounts travelling behind the carriages.
"It is true." Ahead, Knowledge could see the outline of Sariel's Hart leading the way, flanked by his men as they travelled the empty road, the sky almost blackened like nightfall.
"Whatever happened to him?"
The elf turned to look from Knowledge to Dorian.
"He killed him."
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Thank you The-Incubus and Guest Reviewer for letting me know about the formatting issue! A good reminder to not upload chapters at midnight without double checking it worked!