Thirty-seven
Anya stirred, her hand at her forehead.
She blinked back into consciousness, her head spinning. Sylanni had shoved her hard out of the way as the juggernaut shot spears of red lyrium at them. She had hit the ground hard, the force of the fall and the exhaustion of throwing whatever magic she could muster.
She stumbled to her feet. The room beyond had quieted of battle, but she could hear screaming.
Anya forced herself through the doorway.
Then she saw him.
"Cain!"
The red lyrium pulsed through him, his muscles were rigid and tingling with a burning pain. His fingers curled into fists. His elbows locked at his sides. His knees buckled. It looked as if all his bones had been replaced by bars of steel.
"Don't come closer, Anya!" he shouted as best he could between his gritted teeth. His jaw was locked. He couldn't blink. His neck and spine were rigid. His entire body trembled.
Anya stopped on her heel, looking helplessly as red light began to spill off of Cain. Electric snapped in the air around him. Plumes of bright red flame seemed to flare off of his entire body.
The sword, ash and bits of crumbled stone around him began hovering inches off the ground. The air crackled, fine tendrils of red lyrium energy bending around him.
He tried to move, but his entire body felt like he was filled with lead. His eyes were wide. He stared in horror at his clenched fists, the buzzing, snapping and flaming energy of the red lyrium engulfing them.
"Cain! What's happening!" Anya yelled. The air seemed to be filled with a violent howling, a shrieking wind that both came from and spiraled around Cain. His eyes began to glow red.
Cain had seen this once before. In Kirkwall. Knight Commander Meredith. Her last moments.
"Run, Anya! Get out of…"
His entire body shuddered. Pain wracked him. His mind raced. His hands were frozen. His knees shook. He couldn't breath.
The energy was spiraling out of control. He could feel the maddening red lyrium filling his body. It snaked into him. It burned everything it touched.
He was foolish, desperate to draw on it. He knew the risks. He knew the price. It had to be paid. For the good of the Inquisition. For the good of all Thedas.
Anya tried to take a step closer, but it was as if she hit a wall as she reached out to him, her hand scorched as it hit the plumes of red lyrium fire burning wildly off of him. She recoiled, holding her fingers.
"Cain! Maker, no!" she cried. "No! Not like this!" Her face was streaked with tears. Her eyes were filled with fear.
Cain could feel the tendrils of madness piercing his mind. Chaos. Blood. So many images flooded before his stuck open eyes, his sight going red and darkening by the second.
Cullen. Lina. Cassandra. The Gallows. Raphael. Anya. Dominic's mother. Redcliffe. Kirkwall. Iron Bull. The Chantry. Dominic. Sylanni. Sera. Harper. Carissa. Chykk. Skyhold. Mont-de-glace. Snort. Orin. Meredith. Mae. His father. His mother. Calen's Roost. Dagna...
Dagna. A brief moment of clarity. What had Dagna said? The red lyrium clouded his mind. He struggled to focus.
""It allows them to … spit! Yes spit! They can't drink the water and get the good stuff, but they can just force it back out."
Force it back out!
It was his mind, his voice, his will, screaming through the tempest in his head.
Cain could feel himself slipping, but the power was still there, he could feel Templar power deep within him shrouded in the haze. He forced his eyes closed. He dug within himself. It had always been there. It was a part of him. He did not deny it now.
"Maker, give me strength!"
He had tried to run from it, but the Templar power was still there, waiting. Lyrium had been the key to open it, but now he could feel the Fade just on the other side. He threw the gates open, letting the power flow through him.
His body wracked and shook as the anti-magic collided with the red lyrium overtaking his body. A shockwave of force blew out around him, pushing Anya back, shattering the stones under his feet, collapsing the ceiling above his head.
The red lyrium flared hotter, the flames growing off his body as if someone had thrown grease upon the fire. Another blast of force. The stones fell and crumbled, crushed to dust as they hit the energy encapsulating him.
Force it back out!
He could feel his body, just slightly. He clenched his fists in, tightening every muscle in his body as he crouched lower to the ground. His entire body quaked. He opened his mouth. He screamed.
He pictured Anya in his head. He remembered her embrace, her kiss, the way she had carried him when he was weak. She had traveled through the Fade itself to find him and pluck him from madness.
The red lyrium consumed him, had been consuming him since Haven. He had thrown himself at the world, reckless, without care, ready to break and fall. He struggled to do good, but he could not overcome the overwhelming feeling that he was fading, used up, lost and forgotten.
And then she had happened. Despite his thoughtless actions, she stood with him, she bolstered him and carried him through. She fought the demons that haunted him. When he had left Skyhold, he hadn't cared if he survived. If he perished, it would be the merciful end to his suffering. And then Anya had happened.
Cain wanted to live.
He pushed the anti-magic out toward his skin, the red lyrium pushing back as it tried to consume him. The red energy snapped around him. It resisted. It struggled. He could feel the shell collapsing.
His lungs filled with air. The howling red lyrium forced into his mind. He pushed it out. His body locked. The Templar power wrapped around him. It forced the chaos to his flesh, heat and rage prickling his skin.
He could feel his power collapsing, fading, the lyrium overwhelming it. It blared hotter than his power, battering him back. The shell collapsed. The paralysis gripped him again, red fire creeping up his arms, his fingers growing so, so stiff and stonelike.
"No, that is not the way!"
It was a voice in his head, a woman's voice. It was the same voice he had heard when he awoke in the cell as the white light bathed his body. "Live well, brother," it had said.
It was a voice he had never heard before in his life, one he never had the pleasure of knowing face to face because of the circumstances. But inside of him, he knew. He knew. His sister.
He could feel the nugget of spirit energy in him, the same power he had drawn upon to sap Raphael of the red lyrium. It shone within him, incorruptible. He could feel the nudging at his will, something beyond his body guiding him, instructing him.
He did not try to force the red lyrium out.
Instead, he took the howling energy within himself.
The tainted power sank within him, pulling into his core. He opened himself, willingly letting the dark energy fill him, consume him, pulling it close to that spark he could feel.
He could feel a different strength course through him now. White fire and light surrounded him. His back arched, his fists crossed at the wrists. His arms shook violently. He was in control. Just slightly. Just for a second. It would be enough.
Now!
His arms jerked out to his sides, his mouth opened and he screamed. His voice pounded through his head. The chains shattered. He burned white light like a star.
Red filled his vision. Waves of energy poured off of him, flames and bolts and force cast off of him, exploding through his body. He could feel the lyrium burning in him. It burned the air. It dissipated into smoke.
His nerves trembled. He lost feeling. His scream faded as his lungs emptied.
His eyes went dark.
As the chamber came down and the flames grew so hot and violent, Anya had run, tears streaking her face.
The entire keep shook like an earthquake. She pressed her back to the wall, her eyes closed. She sobbed. Her mind raced with the Chant. She prayed for Cain. For his safety.
She prayed for herself.
"Don't leave me alone. Not now. Please!"
The quaking stopped. Smoke poured through the entryway. The stone at her back was hot to the touch. Everything fell silent.
She stood. She covered her mouth, stepping into the shattered chamber.
The chaotic energy had abated. The air was unbearably hot. It felt as if the room was filled with fire.
She pushed toward the epicenter.
The red lyrium had been consuming Cain. There was nothing she could do to stop it this time.
The fear she had not felt for so long filled her now. She trembled with each step, trying to see through the smoke. She coughed, unable to breathe in the haze. Anya waved her hands to clear the smoke and the clouds parted slightly.
In the center of the room, he was there.
Cain stood, still as a statue.
His body was unmoving, flame still flickering on his body.
She approached closer, reaching her hand out toward him, searching, praying. She trembled with fear. He was so still, so quiet.
Anya jumped as his chest lifted slightly then fell, filled with breath.