Note: Chapter 50, readers! You think we can go another 50 more? :D
Those rabbits weren't demons, but were rather small wisps that were easily dealt with by a few zaps of electricity and a couple of swipes of blades. They're nothing but floating balls of spiritual essence that are hardly a threat but for the sting of their defensive expelled power. It doesn't hurt any worse than being stung by a wasp. But, really, that whole thing was... quite mild compared to everything else we've come by here so far. Even so... with Liana it seems like she's shying away from using her magic. Maybe she's just being cautious around some who still might harbor some ill contempt for her. I could see her worried that someone might be thinking that she'll still stab us in the back. But, I'd bet money that I don't have that it's something else. It seems like she's not even trying to defend herself. Like she has a death wish. On herself.
I recognize the look on her face as one I've felt on my own, and still feel the shadows of it to some extent, but I'd even raised my sword against the wisps. I had all the nervous hesitance I've felt come back full-force, and it had threatened to overwhelm me with the feeling of the weight of my blade between my two hands, but I still fought. Liana's hands were white-knuckled around her staff and she was stock still with, well, maybe fear. I'd be lying if I'd said I wasn't worried for her. If she can't fight even wisps, then... we still have so much more to fight.
That's proven more true than ever once we've passed through to the next plane Aereweld's found in this... game? Nightmare? Nightmare or not, the place this plane of the Beyond is embodying would be beautiful... beautiful if it weren't tainted by slick demonic ichor splashed about, ash clogged air, and the stink of burnt flesh and charred hair. Which that is a smell I'm rather disgusted to realize I'm now familiar enough with to pinpoint. There's humidity in the air too, as this plane is one full of leafy shrubbery, thick moss, and heavily vine-wrapped trees whose branches are thick and high enough to block out the sight of the sky... if there were one to be seen in this illusion.
We trudge on through the dense and battle-marred vegetation with our hands readied on weapons and a cautiousness in our steps while we're on the lookout for any enemies lurking about. My hands aren't on my weapons though. They're on my arms and briefly ghosting along my stomach while I silently wish for the biting pain and sluggish feelings of the magical flux of power alighting along my lines of dark magic and seeping into my flesh to just... go away. I'm sure I'll defend myself, here if I have to, but I need to be ready to do so. Being preoccupied with nausea and a whole body-ache wouldn't be conductive to that. And this won't be the last I'll feel this way. I know more than well enough that it's not. My middle sister's mocking laughter briefly flashes through my mind. She'd have something to say about all this, I'm sure.
I growl under my breath, suddenly frustrated, but it seems that little sound's still enough to draw Sloane's attention to me. When I catch the question in his eyes, I work to clarify. "It's just... this and we still have so many people to find... and then the spirit." How many times must I feel these sensations before they don't affect me any more? How many times will I struggle to fight against anything more dangerous than a floating ball of energy? How terrible will everyone's dreams be?
His lips press into a thin line, and after a moment he says, "we'll find them," with his characteristic certainty that heralds a sense of peace that tries to creep its way into my mind.
I breathe out a short breath, relishing in the chance at accepting borrowed confidence, and take a quick look at the painful evidence of a battle, or several, that've gone horribly wrong strewn about us. Whose dream could this be? "Antiva's warm, right?" I ask while running my fingertips against the charred edges of a large flat leaf that's a vibrant green beneath the ash and dust. Plant biology was never my thing, but I know enough to recognize a tropical plant when I see one. The vines too, they're more thick and smooth than the woody stranglers that could've been found on the trees just outside the cold and wind beaten city I'm from. "Seheron too. Think we'll find Zev or Sten?"
"It's possible," he agrees. "Do you recognize this place?"
"No," I shake my head. "Just looks like a... n-northern place," I stutter briefly while struggling to remember the geography of this world. Ferelden's in the south, right?
"What's that look for, dearest?" Sloane asks quietly.
I shake my head, "Just a stray thought," I smile weakly. "I live in the north back in my world, and that's colder than the south of my country. It's... different," I finish awkwardly and shake my head again. "Maybe..." I take a quick breath through my nose, still a bit unnerved from passing through the portal and coming to a scene of ash and blood, "Maybe I can try to speed this up. Try to feel for those spirits here." I've done it once, and I'm sure I could do it again. It's a skill I probably should take advantage of. I know it could give us an edge here, if not elsewhere.
Sloane nods and signals for the others to stop. I look over to Aereweld briefly when a thought occurs to me. Her abilities as a mage are different than the Circle mages', and even modern Dalish, and I know she has a way of seeing things differently in the Beyond. She knows when spirits have died, and she knew where Randall was. The Beyond is seen fluid to her, like a length of unbound silk rocking gently in a breeze, versus the static and linear view the rest of us have of this place. She's lived here so long that she can see distant planes and have brief glimpses of the inhabitants of this place, like only catching sight of the tail-end of that length of silk when the wind kicks it up enough. It lasts seconds, maybe minutes, but then the wind pushes it from sight again. Or in this case, the fluidity of the Beyond obscures what she can sense. She's not really a somniari, given that she can't bend the fabric of the Beyond to her will, but she has more familiarity and control in this place than most given her training and... unique circumstances.
"If I can find the spirits here," I start while holding Aereweld's violet gaze, "could you find who's stuck here?"
Her eyes flick away briefly in thought before she meets her gaze to mine again and gives me a small nod, "I believe so, yes, lethallan."
I exhale slowly, aware of all the anticipatory gazes on me, and pinch my eyes shut while I try to focus on the ever ebbing and swelling sensations curling through the tendrils of blood magic in my skin. It's different here, since I'm actually in the Beyond and not in a place where the Veil is torn or thin, and so it's more difficult for me to get a handle on what I'm exactly feeling since there's just so many sensations bombarding me with each second I'm standing here. I curl my fists and try to focus my mind, and my ever wondering thoughts, on only the feeling of the dark magic I can call my own. It has it's own pulse, if that makes any sense. The network of ruddy racing lines covering me from head-to-toe resonates differently than the rush of my own blood through my veins. It's a foreign feeling I've grown accustomed to, and I'm still struggling to make sense of what they cause within me - the sluggishness, the prickling or burning pain, and the nausea it elicits in the depths of my stomach.
It's... unnatural to have blood magic laced in your skin, and I pay for it when things the magic reacts to awakens it - spirits, a thinned Veil, and battles where it acts in defense and relishes in the chance to cause mayhem. It's its own being within me - the combined life essences of a dozen people or more tainted by darkness and wrought to give me power. Realizing this, knowing this, living this, I calm myself in an effort to focus on the peculiar reaction to spirits the magic causes within me.
I blink my eyes open after a moment, and point hesitantly in the direction I can feel a greater pooling in my lines that signifies the presence of the denizens of this place. Aereweld turns in this direction with a flutter of her dark cloak and a flash of her green armor in the dim light, and then she raises two softly glowing hands. She closes them with a sharp sound and a nod of her head as she turns back around.
"We should alter our course," she says simply and heads off in that direction.
It's not too far off from the way we were walking, Aereweld must've had a clue which way we should go, and I smile a bit to myself with a small amount of happiness that I was able to help. I can help. I can use these lines differently than what they were intended for, and I don't have to be afraid of them to do so.
I just have to keep reminding myself of that.
After some more walking and hedging our way through more destroyed vegetation, I look towards Sloane and curl one hand gently around his elbow, and slowly slide that hand down to meet his palm with mine. My sister, I hear her laugh again. I've always been more affectionate with those I knew or trusted, okay... I'm usually the friendly sort, if I go about it awkwardly most of the time. But here, with Sloane, I know my sister would tease me, and maybe even the both of them.
The twins were always more clever with words than me and quicker to come up with some witty one-liner that would leave me open-mouthed or laughing. Kailah was worse than her younger twin Kayleigh, with Lah being more blunt and crass and not one to shy from some crude sex joke, or two. She would say something if she saw me, I know she would. I could see her expression too - that short bob of 'elmo-red' hair, her brown roots coming in, frizzy and unkempt as the side of her pierced nose pinches with the pleased smirk her thin lips often wore when she felt she was being particularly clever.
The twins didn't like being compared to each other, but they had shared... do share similar traits and taste. One had dyed her hair an obnoxious shade of red and cut her hair to her ears, and the other preferred her hair long to her waist but with more than half of it dyed a deep blue. Both their faces were pierced multiple times, different piercings, of course, but similar in their affinity for all things obnoxious and shiny. They wanted to look different, to be distinct from each other despite the fact they are technically fraternal, but they're still so similar.
I miss them. God, I do.
"You alright, Karie?" Sloane asks me with a concerned tilt to his brow.
I swipe a free hand over my face and try to smile at him reassuringly, again. "Just thinking about my sisters," I answer honestly.
Is anyone else as distracted as me? I'm known to have the stray internal monologue or two, but this is off track and excessive, even for me. Wait... Maybe I'm not thinking I'm hearing my sister's laughter, maybe it's this place toying with me. I wouldn't put it past the angry and vengeful spirits here to plague us, unknowingly, as we travel around and release our companions in a bid for freedom for us all from this place. I should try to be cautious about that though, just in case. I'm not exactly sure how I can prevent their influences, if there are, but I'm going to try and pay more attention outside of my thoughts.
I look up towards Sloane again and meet his gaze as I voice my concerns, "I think the spirits are still playin' with our minds." I frown a bit before continuing, "I'm not sure, but... I'm really distracted."
His lips thin and he answers quickly, "I'm not having any difficulty staying focused. Do you think," he gestures with his free hand in the direction of the length of my body with a downwards swipe through the air, "it could be due to your... markings?"
"Hm," I hum briefly in thought. The blood magic in me can divert my consciousness, so could it also divert my waking thoughts? The lines of them are more active here than outside of the Beyond, true, but... the ring sitting on my thumb, I know it helps with clarity... "I'm not sure," I answer honestly.
"We'll be free of the Fade soon," he tries to reassure.
I know we can get out of here - it's only a matter of time, but how much? And how will that time affect us? Mages are accustomed to this place, but 'mundanes' as Amell had said, aren't supposed to be this active in the Beyond. And I have a strange connection to it, or lack of one, being that I'm from a whole other world and... everything else. How's that work for the people that can't even feel this place, like Sloane? Is he at some different risk than the rest of us? Are the dangers for each of us unique?
"I don't like being here," I say. "There's too many-" I'm cut off when something runs through the clearing we've found ourselves in too quick to make out. "Did you see that?" I spit out quickly instead and point in the disappearing shadow's direction.
"That was a companion of yours," Aereweld says and draws her blade before dashing in the retreating figure's direction. One of our friends, and she has her sword ready. Probably because the shadow's moving towards the spirits I had felt earlier. Does that person know they're running straight into danger?
"Great," Amell grumbles, "I'm going to trip on a root and break my neck." He shakes his head and motions for the rest of us to follow. "We can't let her have all the glory. Let's get a move on, shall we?"
A/N: A tiny cliffhanger, but I should have the next chapter out soon - the next one's all planned out. This time. XD Oh, and has anyone else recently stumbled across the awesomeness that is the shipping of Varric and Cassandra? New OTP right there. And the poll for Sloane seems to have a clear winning age for him too. lol. Thanks for the votes, reads, and everything else readers! You're all the best! :D
