Amell knew the image she had of Sten in her mind was incomplete. But until now, she at least thought she knew enough. Now she had to reconcile the image she had of him with that of a young man, a young husband, and she could not do it so easily.
It was a self-centered view, she realized, to think of Sten as only the person she'd come to know since Lothering. He was twice her age and even if he weren't, he'd still have a myriad of life experiences she could never have attained at the Tower. This bothered her in ways she could not explain, because the things she did not know pertained mostly to Qunari society. Sten was far removed from his people now, but as they reached Seheron, who was to say she would not discover other things, more terrifying than this?
She stopped her wanderings and looked back towards the camp. The flickering of the firelight was more distant than she expected. She did not want to return just yet, but she was reminded of the manner in which she'd left. With a cringe, Amell came to the conclusion that Sten might have been hurt by her suddenly storming away. This habit of running away when faced with unpleasant circumstances had to stop.
She turned to walk back when the ground shifted almost imperceptibly. It was only due to the battle reflexes she'd developed since leaving the Tower that she stepped away just quickly enough for the emaciated hand that sprung out of the earth to grab the hem of her robe and not her ankle.
She had to squelch her other reflex, however, the one to call forth lightning, because she had no idea what would happen. Instead, she twisted her foot out and stomped on the hand. Long since rotted bones snapped with a sound like dry twigs.
The moon was bright enough for Amell to see the ground rise and crumble as an ambulatory corpse rose slowly from its shallow grave.
She stepped back, panicked, but she could see no other threats. This did little to ease her mind, however, because she still had no adequate way of dealing with the one enemy she was already facing. It rose to its full height, slouched to the left slightly, and turned the grotesque remnants of its face towards her.
She'd moved a good twenty steps away by now, but that still wasn't far away enough to form a plan.
Then, the ambulatory corpse lurched a step, tentatively, in her direction, before growling incoherently and starting to sprint towards her. It moved with uncanny speed and the little time Amell had to think expired instantly.
Instinct took over and, almost unbidden, she felt the Veil waver as electricity formed around her body, bathing everything around her in a bright intermittent light. The light pooled around her arm and, with just a slight motion, lightning flung itself at the creature with such violence, that it completely obliterated the corpse's midsection, leaving nothing between the ribcage and the pelvis but a charred acrid scent. It collapsed in two pieces, struggling and gurgling angrily, before its movements stopped completely.
Amell fell to her knees like a rag doll. Her muscles felt as if they'd turned to goo and become incapable of sustaining her. She could see only blackness and the afterimage of the lightning on her retinas, but that was not unexpected. And worst of all was that her lungs seemed incapable of drawing enough air and she started hyperventilating, lest she suffocate. Her chest felt excruciatingly pained.
She did not know the exact length of time she spent on her knees, focusing only on her next breath and the one after that, but as the pain started to abate, she felt strong hands on her shoulders and a voice in her ear.
"Kadan, are you injured?"
She shook her head, but her hands still clutched at her chest.
"Mana depletion," she explained, her voice weak and thready. "Too sudden. Hurts," she added with the last breath she felt she could spare.
He did not reply at first, instead taking note of the possessed corpse's remnants. After another look at their surroundings, she picked her up in his arms with ease.
Amell was not about to argue with this. She wasn't sure she could get her muscles to work right yet and she was not about to spend her night in a damp field accompanied only by a twice-dead individual. But she still felt the painful pangs of mana depletion. She'd gotten away with much less last time, when she froze the field, because she'd only been attempting a small spell. But with an enemy barreling towards her, she could not muster the same restraint and thus suffered the consequences.
She leaned her head against Sten's chest and closed her eyes. He did not have his armor (he'd probably rushed to find her after seeing that light show), so she found the heat emanating through his shirt comforting. She almost protested when they reached the camp and he gently placed her down on the bedroll, but gave up on the idea out of sheer fatigue.
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Author's note: the lack of updates lately have been because of a combination of exhaustion, writer's block and a busy schedule. Things don't look to be improving anytime soon.
