Running On Empty: Hello From The Other Side
We had wandered away from the Blades of Hessarian stronghold and made a hard trek toward the northeast section of the coast. I hadn't wanted to venture south just yet, as we had no camps set up along that way, so any sort of danger couldn't be easily resolved with support or troops. It was also preferable that the Inquisition be made aware that the Blades were no longer a threat before introducing the two groups in a shared camp; thus off to the peninsula I went. It had been just past the cave where we had originally found the deepstalkers and spiders the size of Newfoundlands hounds. We carefully picked our way across the stone so as not to be swept away by the licking waves that slapped along the edges.
The currents ran deep and swirled dangerously leaving no doubt as to their death grip beneath the waves. Bull led the way in front of me, his larger and broader form acting as a wave-break in case I couldn't withstand the swell. Solas was nimble enough to avoid the reaching grasp of the water and Varric was careful to cling to my hip. Across the shallow and short peninsula, the ground heaved up into a sharp and unwelcoming hill. It was here that I heard my first stirrings of what the fuck. Bull paused with a sudden stiffening of his good ankle and held his arm out to break my pace. His elbow in my chest, I peered around his arm to find what had caught his attention.
"What the actual shit?" I breathed with a hard blink. Before us roamed a handful of miniature dragons. No wings, so perhaps they were wyrms rather than baby fucking dragons, but my Dungeons and Dragons information was rusty at best. Bull vibrated with excitement and I glanced at him for explanation.
"Dragonlings," the answer came instead from Solas, his eyebrows raised high on his empty forehead, "let us hope their mother isn't around."
"Oh, don't ruin it, elf." Bull snorted. He drew his maul from over his shoulder and proceeded with sharp intent toward the scaled creatures.
"Wait, what, are we actually - hey, what the fuck, dude!" I had lost all control of the Qunari as he charged. Varric chortled, amused at the antics of our tank and smoothly braced Bianca to his shoulder for a round of bolts to herd the dragonlings. Solas sighed with a shake of his head and dropped a barrier over The Iron Bull, but with the faintness of its color, I had a small inclination to believe the spell wasn't as strong as it could have been. I watched, wide eyed, as the Qunari spent less than five minutes smacking the creatures down with mighty swings.
I don't know if I was more stunned at his eagerness, or the fact that they were baby fucking dragons.
"Did you say they have a m-mother?" I asked Solas as we carefully approached the blood stained hillside. Solas gracefully dipped to his haunches and pulled empty vials from his traveling sack. With a gentle hand and sharp knife, he pulled away scales and fed droplets of the searing blood into the empty containers.
"Most likely, yes." Solas nodded and corked the first vial. "Though, I see no remnants of a nest, or carcasses, so one must deduce that this is not their actual den and must have wandered from her sight. Or they're rejects." The elf took a moment to pry away a few talons from toes and wrap them up in oilcloth that we had spared for maps or missives. The booming laugh of our Qunari echoed up from somewhere up ahead and soon his shadow came back into view with the Bull following closely.
"Boss, c'mere." He waved a hand to lure me over, his grin wide and single eye shone with excitement. "I got 'em all, so you don't gotta worry. You can see them up close now."
"Bull, this is one hell of a way to woo someone." I squeaked weakly and stepped around Solas toward the Qunari.
His cheer and excitement were untouched by my teasing, he snorted with a grin. "Oh, no, trust me, if I was, you'd definitely get something better than some half-pint dragonling. C'mon, they're dead, here, take a look." Once I was at his side, he reached down by his feet and gripped the small, protruding appendage of the nearest creature and dragged it over. From a glance, I had to assume the appendage was a sprout of the necessary bone for a wing to form. Somewhat appeased that Bull wouldn't abandoned me if it suddenly came back to life, I knelt down to my heels and inspected the creature.
Rock hard scales armored its head from snout to the back of its neck and down its spine. Long, thick talons were counted in three for each foot and its whole body was colored in patches of green, greenish-gray, and flecks of brown-yellow and copper. Camouflage. The appendage Bull had grabbed was, indeed, a protrusion for the wings and a small patch of webbing had already started to grow. The head itself was about as thick as my torso and the teeth were razor sharp and numerous. Bull watched me from overhead, but said nothing as I ran my hands along the scales and turned the head left and right to inspect.
"You really don't have these in your world, huh?" Bull asked gently from over my head. The dragonling's jowls was dropped from my hands and I glanced up at the Qunari. Something between fear and shock must've been on my face (not sure which had been stronger, because honestly, fucking dragons) and Bull slowly lowered himself to a knee and tilted his head curiously at me.
"N-no." I murmured, voice caught from surprise. "W-we... I mean, there are legends and fairytales and folklores that talk about these things like they were common back centuries and centuries ago, but... to actually see one..."
"It's not even the adult one." Varric groused from behind us, bagging a few of the extra vials for Solas. "I agree with Chuckles, let's hope the mother isn't around."
"Ah," Bull huffed with a sour look at our companions, "Yer no fun. She's gonna have to see one eventually. She even missed it when she passed over us the first time we were here."
"If I have anything to say about it, she won't." Solas stated matter-of-fact, his eye narrowed on the Qunari. "She has rifts and demons enough to handle, we don't need to add dragon-hunting to the list."
"What, wait, dragon-hunting?" I stammered and swiveled around to Solas. "People actually do that?"
"Sure did. Shit, you should ask Cassandra. The Pentaghasts were famous for it." Varric tugged on a part of Bianca and folded her back up. "Her family originates from Nevarra, and the Pentaghasts were dragon-slayers ages ago."
"Not quite common knowledge, but the legends do swell over time. I imagine the Seeker never brought it up." Solas interjected at my fallen expression. I shook my head, ashamed at my lack of knowledge on Cassandra's previous life. Solas nodded with a brief shrug. "As I said, it is not a legend that one hears in a commoner's tavern. The royals enjoy their histories more than most."
"I never knew..." I lamented. All this time that I had Cassandra by my side and I knew not one single iota of her life before the Inquisition. Shame flooded my lower gut for a moment and with scattered thoughts, I made a mental note to talk to the woman when I saw her again. Who knew when that would be, as she was off currently in the Hinterlands to acquire the last of our horses. A sigh fluttered up my throat and any curiosity I had for the creature at me feet died out.
My Mark flashed from my left side and on cue, we all froze.
"Sweetheart?" Varric prompted quietly. Solas and Bull remained silent, their gazes intent on me. My attention was in tatters as I tried to place where the pull had come from and how far away it could be. Uselessly, I clenched my left hand and turned in a slight circle, desperately listening.
"The Blade said the demons were haunting a dock, right? Bull, did you see any?" I asked, my eyes catching the gaze of the Qunari.
"Yeah, just over there, up that path. There weren't any demons when I took a peek." He answered softly. With a nod, I stepped past him and Solas immediately swept to my left side, staff at the ready as he followed me. Bull came along my right and Varric brought up the rear with the faint clicks of Bianca whispering behind us. We wandered up the path and the dock came into view as we came down along the other side of the hill of the island. The waves of the ocean slapped against the rotting wood and the whole construct groaned with each tug and push of the greedy sea. The Mark in my palm flared again and remained a constant glow; we're close.
"Like a black hole, right?" I murmured rhetorically to Solas. "Just gotta walk by and see what rips open."
"Essentially." Solas huffed, displeased with my detachment. "Though, I would not recommend attempting to capture any demons within your grip."
"I second that." Bull grumbled off to my right, the maul drawn from its holster to rest on his shoulder. "From what I've seen, it's not an effective weapon, it makes your arm go numb and we can't have that if you're swinging a maul around." Solas glanced at the Qunari from behind my back and paused before giving the other man a nod. With both of them turned against me and Varric silent on matters that were a bit beyond his understanding (or comfort) I was left to acquiescing.
"No promises." I replied. I reached for my maul and unhooked it to have it ready at a moment's notice. Together we cautiously made our way closer to the dock, and with each step I could feel the Mark pulse and pull at the muscle under my skin. My vision tunneled as I swept my gaze along the dock for the source. Faintly, I could hear the distant cries of shallow voices and the double-echo of thunder and crashing waves. Around me, though the sea was unrelenting with the incoming tide, there was no actual storm or thunderclouds, and the waves were not hard enough to crash as I could hear them.
"Solas." I called to my companion. He neared me, his head tilted with ears twitching, waiting and watching for my distress. I ignored his expression, my eyes glued to the waves that broke along the underside of the dock. "... would it be possible to hear memories through the Fade?" My elven companion stiffened as if electricity had struck his bones, but made no move other than a harder flick of his ears with a hard line pinched between his brows.
"You can." He answered roughly. "If one took precautions for safety, it is possible to be in a waking dream and explore the Fade. If a place had been afflicted or flooded with strong emotion, both negative or positive, then yes, one could experience a memory from the Fade. Why? What do you see?" His tone had become harder and sharper, he had taken a step or two to be in front of me, but my mind had wandered, listening instead to the memory of a catastrophic storm that had crashed into this island.
"I don't see anything that you do," came my honest reply, my gaze running along the dock, "but I can hear... something. Screams, but they're different. Like... like when you're waking up from a nightmare. Distant and terrified. I can hear waves, but they don't match the motion of these waves. They're on a different rhythm. I can hear... Thunder, but...?" I looked up to lead Solas along my deduction. There was a light sprinkle of rain coming down, a mist more than anything, but no thunder, no lightning. Solas stared up at the sky for a moment before he turned his gaze to me, pained and saddened all at once.
"It proves a theory, then." He remarked sadly. "You are connected to the Fade, beyond much more than just the beacon in your hand... a walking rift with an unknown detonation." Being so close to a weakened part of the Veil, I could feel a dull and murmuring echo of their emotions. Solas was locked up tighter than a vault, a blank spot amongst all the other sensations that flooded me. Varric was lit bright with fear and uncertainty and Bull...
Bull was nothing but calm. A sole, unyielding shadow of assurance and confidence in my sphere of the Veil. It was enough to startle me out of my compartmentalization and with a hard blink, I returned to the world of the living. The crashing waves weakened in my ears and the screams of fear and terror were mere echoes in the back of my mind. Alarmed and disoriented by the sudden mental shift, I took a step back from Solas, wide eyed and spooked.
"Easy." Bull's massive hand came down on my head, holding me in place. "Breathe, boss. Just a few big ones."
"Y-yeah," I exhaled, my lungs unraveling from their shriveled state of fright. "Yeah, right. I got it. I'm good."
"What happened?" Varric chirruped from a place behind me, off to my left, one eye pinned to the Mark on my hand. Solas remained in his place, but he was focused on something else entirely, on the Mark or what I had experienced, I was unsure.
"Memories. Pieces of memories coming through the Fade. I can hear people screaming, actual people, not the twisted version that demons make." I shifted a glance to Varric with a hope to assure him I hadn't lost my mind. "I can hear waves breaking harder than these ones. A-and a ship crashing, I think, but that's it. Do you think... Solas, do you think if I open the rift, the spirits would be...?"
"The victims of a shipwreck?" He finished, expression tight and his voice hollow. "Probably. Most likely. We would not be able to confirm, as the rift will pull them through and destroy whatever they once were." The mist of the gentle rain coated us and mingled with the sweat of my palms, my left hand clenched loosely and my right light on my maul.
"I can't leave the rift here, if it is." I answered softly, pained. "I... I don't want to hurt them, but I can't just walk away."
"They're demons." Bull announced behind me, growling deep from his chest. "What's there to hurt?"
"They're not demons." Solas snapped tightly with a sharp glance at Bull. "They're spirits, twisted by the Veil as they're pulled through it."
"I agree with Jaime." Varric muttered, Bianca tight to his chest. "Let's just get the rift closed up so that more don't get yanked from the Fade." The agitated emotions of my companions grew a ball of static in the palm of my left hand and I was forced to step away. Bad juju. Not good for the soul. I stepped a pace or so closer to the docks and just before the lip of the first plank, I could hear a hiss of pain.
"Found it." I stated, surprised. This rift was unlike the others I had encountered; for the others only wanted to burst at the seams of the Veil, but this one was content to shudder in existence, quiet and undisturbed. The screams of the fading shipwreck were a constant in the back of my mind, but I could feel no demon or powerful encroaching spirit from the other side. Slowly, my left hand came over my head, palm bared to the wind and mist.
There was a spark between my flesh and the Veil, and a slithering slip of the Fade flashed open, with a handful of tethers from within spewing out. Curious, my hand lowered and took up the handle of my maul to stabilize it for a few seconds before I stepped toward a tether on the ground and slammed my maul into the spout of spiritual energy. All four of us jumped as the well of energy curled in on itself and then exploded outward, splattering us with hazy dust.
A single blink and Bull took off toward the others, maul raised.
Solas was not as quick on his feet, but he and Varric turned to another tether and fired upon it. Two more links of the Fade were extinguished, but none of us were fast enough to catch the last one. A demon howled angrily as it crawled up from the hole in the ground, its infernal-flamed self steamed as the mist smothered it. An arrow shot with a quiver into its mouth as it yowled and Solas' staff brought a shattering of ice down on its head.
Bull's massive form charged forward, the maul swung high over his head and was brought down with a clatter to scatter the demon's form. The Veil's rip behind me shuddered, faint echoes of cries and a distant storm wafted through, but I raised my hand and one lonely tether gripped my limb. The usual tug-o-war that I had with the other rifts was nonexistent. As a matter of fact, I could feel no resistance from the other side.
Gently, I twisted my hand around the link of faint green Fade and pulled toward my chest. Like a zipper, the rift laced itself back together and with a ghostly, ethereal sigh, it closed. A stunned silence lay over us, all eyes on the rift that I had closed with no fanfare. My attention dropped to my hand as I brought it close and sure as shit, the Mark was dormant and pale.
"What the actual fuck?" I whispered in utter confusion. "It's never been that easy."
"Some areas of the Fade are not as... powerful," Solas started by way of explanation, "the memories themselves gain presence over the course of centuries, either because history is repeated, or their is a large enough population that holds the same memory, like a battlefield."
Varric peeked around Solas' hip. "... so the shipwreck was a small one, you're saying? Not enough to actually fuel the rift in the Fade?"
"In a sense. It would also explain why there were so few demons. There isn't enough here to survive." Solas frowned down at my Marked hand and I curled my fingers into my palm, the fist brought down behind my hip. I glanced back into the empty air where the rift had been and shuddered. It was one thing to talk about the dead and the afterlife, it was another to experience it while still living.
"Huh." I exhaled with a thoughtful glance at my hand.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Varric frowned and stepped closer to me, Bianca safely placed away over his shoulder.
"What's going to happen to me when I die?" I asked curiously. The three men around me froze, hesitation gripping their expressions as they assessed me, perhaps suddenly concerned for my state of mind. It was a valid question, as far as I was concerned. As much as I wanted to believe Varric when he promised to find me a way home, it was highly improbable that he actually would.
I wasn't religious in my old life, but this new one was making it extremely hard to ignore the idea of life ever after.
"Where did that question come from, boss?" Bull's only eye focused on my face critically, but his mouth and shoulders were at ease. Investigative rather than defensive over my dark thought. My attention turned to him as Solas' gaze was locked onto my hand, his mouth set in a hard line and his non-existent brow heavy over his eyes.
"In my old world, there's a fuck load of different beliefs, religions, gods, y'know? But for the most part, the aftermath of death is pretty consistent, you move on to another - I dunno, plane of existence. A second part of the journey." Around me, the men grew uncomfortable and for a split second, Bull stiffened next to me and seconds later forced himself to relax.
"I suppose... Maker, what a question." Varric scratched at the back of his head. "No real way to answer that. I mean, you're human, but if I remember correctly, only the faithful are taken to the Maker's side, right?" He turned the question to Solas, the elf caught unawares and his ears twitched anxiously.
"Not quite." Solas winced. "According to the Chantry, the Maker has since abandoned all His creations and will not heed prayers or perform any miracles until his faithful repent."
"Where do y'all learn this shit." I grumbled and holstered my maul. "If I'm going to be stuck here, I need to start learning this."
"I'll have Leliana update your library with the material." Solas sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "For now, let us... move on." Without adieu, Solas turned on his naked heel and proceeded to lead us back up the hill. Varric and I followed with Bull behind us, the crashing of the sea the only conversation for another handful of moments.
"Does me being human mean I automatically get sent to the Fade?" I prompted again, my curiosity winning out. I was knowledgeable enough to have a passing conversation about Christianity and now sorely lamented the fact that religious studies hadn't been an interest back in college. Ignorance at this point was not blissful.
"Not necessarily." Solas replied from the front. "I hadn't thought to ask, but have you had dreams while you slept?"
"Uh," I was blindsided by the realization that, no, in fact. "Negative. But dreams aren't common. Plenty of people in my world go years without dreaming."
"As do regular humans here. Mages, or those with magical abilities, are inherently tied to the Fade." Solas tapped his staff and the bulb attached to it glowed faintly. "They use that source to manipulate reality and reshape it, and due to that, they are susceptible to influence of spirits, both benign and demonic. They dream almost every time they sleep."
My thoughts narrowed. "Can I ask what a harrowing is?"
"Maker's Balls," Varric sighed heavily, "what a box of bugs this turned out to be."
"Lady Vivienne mentioned it to her." Bull offered softly. I glanced at him askance, eyes narrowed. The Iron Bull gave no indication of shame and shrugged to simply say, "Spy."
Ass. I'll have to take better care about the length of his ability to hear.
"A Harrowing is actually a ritual." Solas sighed and I had the distinct feeling I was dragging all of us into a discussion better left for dead. Tough shit, because the more and more I played with the Mark, the more and more it crystalized that my connection to the Fade was a dangerous one and I needed to have all cards laid bare for me.
"It is, or was as the Circles have fallen, a test that every mage-apprentice had to pass in order to become a full member of their Circle." We had already passed the corpses of the dragonlings and with a flick of my hand I ordered Solas to continue out toward the south. Night was falling and it was best to find our way back toward the Hessarian base.
"This ritual allowed apprentices to enter the Fade and face a demon who wished to enter the living world." Solas and Bull navigated the rocky shores of the coast with ease while the rest of us slipped around like ducklings to get to the other side. Solas paused for a moment to watch us before continuing, "The demon would set a series of challenges or ruses to trick the mage into allowing a possession to happen."
"That... sounds like a load deck. How is that fair?" I asked, alarmed by the implication of possible possession. Hearing stories and folktales of possession, both modern and archaic, were mere forms of entertain to me. Never once did I think to believe they were more than just that, a story.
"I would agree with you," Solas muttered, "but the belief is that if a mage is of sound mind, possessed with a strong will and common sense, they can resist the demon and come back from the Fade, thus having passed their Harrowing." I walked alongside my elven friend, head gently ducked as I watched the eroded stones under my feet pass by.
"I wonder if that's what she meant?" My question was quiet and directionless. "Lady Vivienne stated that because I hadn't ever gone through a Harrowing, that we couldn't assess the actual power or danger that the Mark posed, for me or us as a whole."
Solas considered it and half-nodded. "That would make sense, for her. She must be estimating the powers of the Mark to those akin to magic, as they are both connected to the Fade. What prompted the discussion, if I may ask?" He turned to look at me, brows raised with curiosity and a rapid chill when down my spine. Was it personal? Was it a memory? Can I share that?
My life was on the line.
"This doesn't leave us, any of us, clear?" I glanced over my shoulder with an accusatory gaze shot at all my companions. A blink from Varric, a nod from Solas and silence from Bull was all I got for agreements. My attention switched back to Solas, the elf now doubly curious as to what had transpired.
"Back in the Fallow Mire, when we were fighting the Revenant, I think the other demon with it, the cold one, was using a memory to taunt Vivienne." Varric's ears perked at the new information, but behind us, Bull's neck tightened enough to hunch his head slightly, a dark expression over his face.
"How so? I do not need details of the memory, but how did you know it was directed at her?" Solas asked, the grip on his staff tightening.
"I heard her voice, I... could see parts of the memory. I didn't tell Vivienne what I saw, only that I had seen it." I spared a quick glance over my shoulder at the Qunari, but his stance had returned to normal nonchalance and ease. Something had bothered him, but I hadn't the time to pin it on a reason.
"Hmm." Solas rubbed at his chin with his free hand. "It's not uncommon for demons to use visions or memories to charm mages, but the fact that you were capable of seeing it, whilst outside the Fade..."
"Another nail in the coffin that this Mark connects me to it, huh?" I clarified. Solas nodded, eyes closed and his mouth softened sadly.
"And as you have not passed a Harrowing like most mages, there's no telling if you can be trusted to resist temptation." Solas added and he too spared a glance at Bull. The Qunari, amicably, ignored our worried gazes and continued to march behind us, silent and looming. Varric kept his feet forward and gaze straight, unwilling to open the Pandora's Box that was cage her or don't.
"What do we do if it happens?" I asked quietly, dread bloomed at the bottom of my stomach. Solas trudged along beside me silently for a minute or so, the patter of the rain kept my ears from ringing with the emptiness.
"There's no record of reversing a possession," Solas finally answered softly, "should it happen, the most likely outcome is death."
"... great." I murmured, shoulders slumped and internal organs frozen. "At least make it a quick one, yeah?"
None of them answered me.