The Wardon sat in the empty woods, raven on the branch, letter in hand. She had read it a hundred times since its arrival. Leliana was worried about the Inquisitor's state of mind. The Inquisitor had taken to giving out very harsh punishments for crimes that were nothing beyond gossiping. The Warden paled as she stared at the words regarding the other Grey Wardens serving the Inquisition. Alistair had returned from Weissthort and publicly denounced some of her decisions. This prompted every Grey Warden remaining to leave the Inquisition and head north. Leliana voiced her concern for their safety as the Inquisitor vowed their deaths, for the slight.
"Stupid, my love. Stupid." Her breath caught in her throat in panic. He was always very shortsighted and rash. He should have quietly gathered his forces and left, making up another excuse. He should have sent for her, anything other than what he did. She had hoped he learned his lesson after Knight-commander Clarel. The Warden scribbled a quick word of, "protect the Grey Wardens for me, till I return. See you soon my friend." The journey to Skyhold was short and uneventful, snow crunched under boots, and the Warden moved as fast as she could. The castle came into view and the Warden gasped. It was burning, fire dancing around, and a few people laying in the snow, stained red.
"Leliana." the Warden ran abandoning her stallion, knowing he'd stay nearby. She crossed the bridge without incident and came to the crushed gate. The wood splintered outward as if someone was trying to escape. She darted into the open air and growled at the taste of death and magic in the air. She had seen her fair share of war, to know this wasn't a battle, but a slaughter. Who was slaughtering who, remained to be seen. There were no bodies. Leliana had been kind enough to let the Warden know the basic lay out of the place, and it was easy to find where she stayed. Her body was there, along with several others, some alive, some dead. She pulled her sword out and the living turned their own weapons drawn.
"Who are you!" There was a high-pitched anger in his voice. He was tall, dark skin and hair with a mustache. The other person was short and blood covered his exposed chest and crossbow.
"What happened to Leliana?" The Warden's voice was laced with venom; she was going to kill whoever did this. The short man sighed and put his crossbow away kneeling at leliana's side. The other man followed suit keeping an eye on the new addition to the room.
"The Inquisitor... didn't approve of her talking to people outside about her... She asked us to come back..." The dwarf stood up shaken. "I'm Varric, that's Dorian. We weren't here when this went down." he paused and looked at the Warden who put her weapon away and was looking sorrowful at Leliana's body.
"Nakurali." She whispered her name and went to the side of her friend, saying a prayer to no Gods, but to her fallen friends and family. "Please look after those who will arrive with you today." Varric gasped glancing at Dorian who was just as open surprised.
"The Hero of Ferelden... that Nakurali?" Dorian's voice had evened out and wasn't so high pitched. The Warden sighed.
"I'll never out ran that title..." She stood up and looked at them. "Call me Naku." Naku tried to smile, but the light never reached her eyes. "Where are the Grey Wardens?" Dorian paled and looked away. Varric fiddled with his crossbow and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Naku growled, arms crossed waiting for an answer.
"Most of them got risen by the Inquisitor's necromancers..." His voice was trying to sound light, in hoped of making the information easier.
"Alistair? Where's Alistair!?" her voice broke; she knew the answer, but needed to hear it.
"Beheaded, I believe." Dorian was not one for finesse and Varric hissed at him in warning. The Warden let out a slow, angry, defeated sigh. With the Grey Wardens gone, no Alistair, what was left to do.
"I'm going to kill that bitch." The Warden stepped around the two men and out into the grounds. They followed unsure about what to do next.
"You do realize, that she is standing behind an army... headed to fight another army... lead literally, but the last remaining God on Thedas... right?" He glanced at Varric who shrugged, "Right?!" The Warden didn't turn around, but whistled for her stallion.
"They are headed to the Emerald Glades. I don't know why Sol... Fen'Harel decided to do it there, but it is being done all the same." Varric's voice was calm, filled with reason, abandoned by the Warden. "If you fail... There's a group of people settled in Valammar. See if it'll hold out during the chaos. Feel free to join us." The Warden nodded and Varric pulled Dorian away. The Warden mounted her horse and took off.
The Emerald Glaves were beautiful, even with the loud sounds of battle raging against the trees. She rode through panicked people, running from the blood of battle. She jumped off her horse, kissing him and giving him to a family trying to pull a wagon of injured. The battle field came into view just as quickly. Hundreds of people were fighting and she was thrown back to Ostagar. But this time she was not atop a tower, unable to fight in the fray. She whispered her Prayer again to the dead and jumped into the fighting. Most avoided her as long as she didn't attack them. Everyone was reacting, not thinking. There were elves, dwarves, humans, all kinds of horses and weapons. She moved through the field like she was born on the field.
"Protect the Herald!" The cries continued to ring out giving her a headache and filling her with even more hatred for this woman she had never met. To inspire such loyalty and throw away so many lives. She was abusing her circumstances. The fight between the 'divine' and the God was obvious. Lightning, fire, and power rang from the top of the stairs in the ruin where the battle was taking place. The Warden put her sword away and took the steps two at a time, hoping she would get the chance to let her blade taste the blood of the pretend Herald.
"You are pathetic Solas." The name was let out with a snarling laugh. "So much for being a God." The Warden rounded the statue at the top of the stairs and took in the scene. A bald elf male laid sprawled out on the floor, blood pooling noticeably on the ground under his armor. His eyes were sharp and narrowed on the girl standing above him. She too was an elf, with bright blonde hair and vallasin for Mythal covering her face. The Warden walked over slowly, remaining unnoticed by either as the girl continue to rant and rave about his weakness and stupidity. "Fen'Harel, like Corypheous, you will fall by my blade. Aren't you pleased? You get to help me be an actual God." He snarled a response she didn't hear or understand in Elven. The girl laughed louder and he tried to stand.
She lifted her blade glowing a strange red color and brought it down, intending on taking his head. The Warden stepped forward quickly and with a twist of her own blade, the inquisitors weapon flew across the battlefield and landed twenty or so feet away. The Warden stepped between the two as the inquisitor backed away surprised and angry.
"Who the fuck are you?!" The anger in the inquisitor's voice meant little to the Warden. She seemed like a child outraged at being denied a toy. With Fen'Harel still on the ground behind her, she pulled her second blade and squared up with the elf woman in front of her.
"Clearly you're not a warrior; Can't even hold your blade properly." The taunt worked perfectly and the inquisitor snarled and pulled the staff from her back. The Warden didn't know what was so special about the blade now forgotten on the ground, but for a mage to try to wield it; it must be important. She stayed between Fen'Harel and the now enraged Inquisitor for the few first spells. The Warden gaged that she was probably worn out from fighting Fen'harel, or was not as powerful as she was led to believe.
"Why would you help that bastard?!" The inquisitor was breathing heavy, and the Warden guessed low on magic. "He wants to destroy the world!" She shifted and The Warden could feel something building in the air, but ignored it.
"If people like you are in power, maybe this world should end." Her words were empty half-truths, filled with her feelings of sorrow. The Inquisitor scoffed and stood a bit straighter, the air now humming.
"I have been blessed by Andraste herself, to save this world from that False God." She gestured angrily at Fen'Harel, who remained silent, watching the exchange between the two women, thoughtful. "How dare you stand in the way of Divine Power!" The Warden shook her head lightly in disapproval.
"It seems to me, that you are nothing but a child taking advantage of her circumstances." The Warden took a breath and charged the Inquisitor mage, feeling the hum in the air, and knowing that she was about to find out what exactly it was. The air sparked and the Warden felt the area around her explode. She pressed through it, debris tapping her armor and cutting into her face. She stopped when a strange wind cleared the field of dust and looked behind her. Fen'Harel was standing, watching her, having blown the dust away.
She stared at him for a moment as they came to a silent agreement, for now they weren't each other's enemy. The Warden looked back in time to see the Inquisitor chug a lyrium potion. She threw the bottle away and smiled power now teeming from her hands.
"Last chance to get out of my way." The inquisitor's voice was shrill and almost maddening.
"I can't do that." She braced herself for the renewed battle. "Fen'Harel, stay on the defensive, and keep her away from it." He didn't answer, and she didn't really have time to wait and see if he understood. The inquisitor launched spell after spell. The Warden charged through, dodging and taking hits as needed. Fen'Harel for his part seemed to have a great understanding of the battle, his casts were on point and she was thankful for his help. The distance to the Inquisitor was covered quickly and the Warden's small blade came up to stabbed her in the stomach. She threw ice and was able to move out of the way as the larger blade sliced through the air, intending to put her in two pieces. The Warden's arm was trapped in ice for a moment allowing the inquisitor to back away, flustered.
"Why are you doing this?!" Her voice was a little panicked and the Warden shattered the ice freeing herself. She felt the warmth of a healing spell from Fen'Harel, warming her chilled body.
"Does Alistair mean anything to you? Or maybe the Grey Wardens." The Warden found her anger that had been buried by her grief. The Inquisitor turned red.
"Those treacherous bastards should have stayed out of the Will of the Divine." She sent a flash of fire that the Warden's armor absorbed. The Warden took advantage of the Inquisitor's spell failing and slammed her larger blade into her abdomen. The Inquisitor coughed up blood in surprise, and her eyes flashed red. The Warden was suddenly thrown back and only stayed on the field, because Fen'Harel grabbed her and threw up a shield.
"Well, that hurt." The Warden stood up and looked at the inquisitor, blade tossed to the ground and blood covering her front. "What have you done..." She watched the Inquisitor change and morph.
"She's an abomination. Sold herself to a spirit of Pride." It was the first time she heard the elf man speak, and she paused to look at him. His face seriously and his eyes narrowed on the inquisitor that was now a large ugly thing. The body of the previous elf hanging from the top, like a decoration. The Warden sighed, stretched, and looked back toward the battle. It was still changing.
"Are you still able to fight?" Her words were sunken and clear. Fen'Harel looked at her, bloody, armor damaged, and her face bleeding from cuts. Her main sword arm, shredded from the force of the previous attack. Her small sword arm, gripping her remaining blade like a lifeline.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" There was serious humor to his voice. She smiled.
"I've survived worse." She chuckled a little flexing her injured arm, seeing if it was still useable, it was. "Right now, I just want that bitch's head."
"I can still fight, but I can't heal your arm." His words were cautious. He looked over to her larger blade, now under the abomination that was the inquisitor. "You won't be able to get that sword either." She shrugged.
"Just do what you were doing, I got a plan." She smiled at him, a large grin that gave her blue eyes a shine. She moved into the battle keeping her injured arm tightly against her and charging the creature. It lashed out at her and she dodged it, rolling toward the forgotten blade of the inquisitor. Her free hand grabbed it and winced with the effort.
"This is for Alistair." The Warden's voice was filled with all her hatred and loss, and longing, knowing she'd never hold her love again. She easily danced around the large creature's attempts to hit her. Fen'Harel having guessed the plan supplied her with an ice wall to jump off of and land gracefully atop the creature. The blade was sharp and went through clean. The inquisitor's head in her hand, she took the other blade and buried it deeply into the abomination slicing it open as she used her weight to drag it along its front. It screamed and then fell, still and dead.
Fen'Harel stared at her eyes curious and unsure. She dropped the head and sheathed her remaining blade. He didn't move as she walked over to him, arm hanging dead, and covered in blood.
"Introductions are in order, I presume." Her voice was soft as she stood in front of him, getting a good look at his sharp features and tight but clear eyes. She studied him like she would study any who could be a Grey Warden. Looking into his heart and soul. She sighed, looking out at the field, and trying to look harmless.
"Are you here to stop me..." his voice was clear and after all the death, not unpleasant on her ears. She smiled, and wondered if she could, even if she wanted to.
"Maybe." His eyes narrowed, and she felt him pull his magic into himself, preparing to fight. She sighed again, tired. She let her emptiness fill her eyes, her very being filling the air with, please don't make me kill you. Their eyes stayed locked and slowly he relaxed, moving to a more comfortable stance.
"So why are you here?" He looked weary of her. She couldn't blame him, following his eyes to the fallen inquisitor.
"She killed my love..." She tried thinking of the elven word. It didn't come, being a city elf, the language was rarely spoken to her.
"Alistair..." He repeated the name she'd spoken earlier, and she nodded. "You're the Hero of Ferelden." It sounded like an accusation.
"Some have called me that..." She made sure to catch his eyes before smiling, "My name is Nakurali, but you may me Naku." They stood there in silence for a moment, letting the new reality settle in. Naku wasn't in a hurry for more fighting, and it seemed he felt the same. "So, what's your story, Last Living God of the Elvhan." He scowled her with a face and an angry noise.
"Solas." He snapped. She tipped her head in question, "My name is Solas." She nodded understanding.
"Okay, Solas... What's it mean?" All Elvhan had meaning to their names. He frowned.
"Pride." His voice clear. She let out a loud humorous laugh, thinking how appropriate. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to contain her laughter. He sat still, unamused by her. "it's just a name." She let the laughter die down and smiled at him.
"A good one for a Soon to be God." He shook his head, shifting his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "So Solas, what's your story?" He told her half-truths and spoke as little as possible. She gathered his goal and overall hatred for the inquisitor as well as a basic understanding of their journey to this point.
"What's your story, Hero of Fereldan." There was a bit of curiosity to his question, as well as teasing tone. She guessed he didn't like not knowing, a scholar then. He humored her, so she felt he deserved it back.
"I'm from the alienage in Denerim." He snorted, maybe having guessed. She ignored him. "Due to some choices I made I wound up in the Grey Wardens and following at Ostagar." He was watching her intently, quietly listening. "Alistair and I were to light a fire and Loghain would join the fray. Darkspawn had come up the tower somehow from the lower levels and we had to fight our way to the top." She ran her hand through her hair feeling the weight of that moment all over again. "Duncan," She said his name like a prayer and glanced over at the inquisitor. "I'm sorry." He remained silent during her display, having seen the event from the fade, but having a person from the moment, standing before him, was unnerving.
"What happened next?" He wanted to know what truth she held from the moment. There were so many seen from then in the fade. She looked back at him eyes finally having a bit of shine.
"He quit the field and those in the battle lost their lives." She turned away, getting away from him. The memories still so fresh, and painful.
"Why did he do that?" He followed slowly behind her, drawn to her emotion.
"He didn't believe it was a true Blight. He didn't want to lose men so he would be forced to ask for help from Orlais. He thought the King a fool." She turned sharply and glared at him. "Why, is of no use to the dead. Why, doesn't help the families of those lost. Why? Why? WHY?" She snarled at him. "Why destroy the world a second time without even trying to change it first?!" He took a step back at her rage, fire in her eyes a change from the cold empty of before. She bloody hand arise in accustation between them.
"Loghain wanted to save Fereldan; he did everything with that view in mind." Her voice cracked. "It didn't matter who had to die for that. Me, Alistair, Duncan, not even the king. Save Fereldan." Those two words bitter tasting in her tone. She glared at him. "I'd rather you didn't take down the veil." Her voice unwavering. "I gave everything to save this world... my home, my family, my life, my freedom. I don't even have a name. Hero of Fereldan." She took a step closer to him, he didn't move, angry for a reason she didn't know.
"I understand you better then you know. You made a hard decision that destroyed the world and then fell asleep, and the world carried on. You awoke in a world nothing like you knew. Same problems, different people." Solas stood his ground even as she leaned closer to him. She noticed for the first time that he was bigger than the elves she knew. His shoulders wider somehow and he was taller. "You are a coward. Taking the easy way out and then blaming everyone else for trying to get by, for growing and evolving in a world you made." He shifted a step back uncomfortable with the closeness.
"I have to save the elvhan." His words quiet and unsure. "They deserve to be saved." She touched his face, her blood warm against him. He looked as her eyes softened. "I did this." The guilt was there, fixated on the surface, and she could see it.
"So you did." She was entranced by him suddenly, a warmth in her blood called his magic strangely. "I killed Loghain, I killed countless others to change the world. I did what I had to do." She ran her fingers against his ear feeling the pull on her to sleep and finding the red of her blood oddly satisfying on his pale skin. She was always tired these days. "But you are a fool, to see the same problem, do the same solution, and expect a different result." She resisted the urge to slap him and instead removed herself and stepped away. The air had become tense and she was dizzy. "I won't make the choice for you." She smiled and winked, "I am not a god after all." He chuckled lightly, maybe filling the pull like she did.
"Maybe you should be." It was a light hearted statement, but there was a truth to it.
"No, thank you." She responded quickly. "Someday I want to..." Her voice cracked and she felt the day catch up to her. "Someday... I want to..." She buried her face in her hands. She wanted to travel, she wanted to see the world with Alistair. "Fuck." She sobbed. There was nothing left for her, why was she still fighting? She felt a hand on her neck, it was soft and comforting. She felt the warmth of healing as it guided her to a shoulder and soft comforting words in Elven. Her instincts told her to fight, to ready herself for the blade in the back, but she could only sob, clinging to the comfort of this stranger.
"I'm sorry." The first words she understood, but the purpose was lost. What was he sorry for? She took a deep breath, stepped away and looked at him, his eyes full of sorrow, understanding. His hand still on her neck, mixed with her hair.
"I'd welcome death." She whispered so quietly he barely heard. "But there are so many who still need me." She stifled a sobbed and looked at his chest, trying to collect herself. "I will continue. Veil or no Veil." She shook her head, smiled weakly at him and placed her hand on his on her neck. "I await your choice, Solas." He took a breath and wrapped his fingers around hers. It was odd standing there silently staring at each other. He knew her struggle, like she knew his.
"What other choice is there?" He shifted their hands between them. "It's like walking through a world of tranquil." She brought his hand to her lips and kiss him, tasting her own blood.
"Do I feel like tranquil?" Her voice soft. He looked away and toward the inquisitor. His hatred of her flashing on his face making it obvious that she had helped harden his resolve to end this world. Solas looked back at the Hero of Fereldan her face still red of tears, shaking his resolve.
"No... are you a mage?" He tightened his grip on her hand.
"Warrior." He looked skeptical. He watched her as she rubbed the tears from her face with her empty hand.
"I suppose, it wouldn't hurt to wait." His voice clear, and a small smile on forming. "She succeeded in that at least." They both looked around the battle. Whatever he had planned to do here was not possible anymore.
She nodded, letting go of his hand. Solas watched her walked around the area, kicking the inquisitor's corpse and retrieving the weapon buried beneath it. The inquisitor's blade now on her back with her larger sword and the blade she used to cut off the inquisitor's head in her hand. Solas didn't speak as she stretched and looked toward the noise of confusion. The battle was over for the most part, but people were looking for someone or something to blame. She shook her head and with a wave, went to leave.
"Wait." Solas moved toward her with a bit of hesitation in his steps. When he reached her, she paused and was looking more through him than at him. He caught his breath, admiring her resolve. "What will you do now?" She shrugged. She supposed she would seek out the men from Skyhold, but she wouldn't tell him that. She didn't know the relationship between the men, and it wasn't her story to tell. "Will you come with me?" That surprised her. He was watching her curiously, eyes on the sword of the inquisition.
"No, you don't need my help." her voice was certain in tone and left little room for him to argue. He shook his head and looked toward the battle.
"So, what will you do?" He was curious about this strange girl that leapt into the battle and plowed through enemies like a strong wind though snow. "I don't think I'd like to stand opposite you in battle." She smiled, the light never quite reaching her eyes.
"I wouldn't recommend it." She turned to leave, and he followed. He looked unsure at the woman in front of him, she was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He wanted to know exactly what that meant. However, as they descended the stairs, he grew more and more certain that she'd make it hard or even impossible for him to get that information. The Hero of Fereldan was a mystery to most people, and now she was in his sights, he didn't want to let her out of it. He couldn't think of a way to get her to follow him, and he wasn't going to try to get that blade from her. He smiled lightly as they got closer to the battle, and he knew he could always see her in her dreams.
"Good bye, Hero of Fereldan, be well." His lasts words to her as she disappeared into the crowd and out of his sights. He had plans working in his head, plans to watch her and make sure she didn't get in his way, but the wounded needed to be cared for. He needed a new plan.