The Making of a Herald
As the very much still alive Alistair and his captors neared an area with a lot of people in it, he watched them and overheard their conversations.
A woman spun around, holding her sword out in front of her like she wanted to slice the air itself. Everyone else seemed to be looking around frantically. "Where did he go?!" the woman yelled.
"I … I don't know, Seeker. He was here one minute and then … just gone!" The soldier who said that ran around the edges of the blown-out area. "Maker's Breath, he just disappeared!"
One of the soldiers escorting Alistair, yelled ahead, "We found another one, Seeker Pentaghast! This one fell out of a green portal like them rifts, not a black rip in the air."
The Seeker swung her sword to Alistair's chest and then frowned. "Dear Maker, he looks like a younger version of the other one. Put him back over there … no, wait, put him on a different boulder." She huffed and looked like she was trying to gather her thoughts while Alistair was marched to what looked like part of a crumbled stone wall and forced to sit down on a flat part.
Another one? Younger version? Alistair was mystified … and more than a little terrified. Maybe the other people who grabbed the orb fell out of their own portals and this woman is just confused?
His thoughts whirled as he glanced around the devastated surroundings. He didn't dare move around much because of all the swords surrounding him, but he looked around as far as he could. Everything here … all of the surrounding area … was destroyed. There were more statues … which were more like charred skin and bone … in all sorts of tortured positions. They were all around him here.
Am I just having a bad dream maybe … a horrible, horrible nightmare? Is this all that's left of Ferelden?
Please Maker, let me wake up in a tent on the side of the road somewhere … with the wonderful aromas of Leliana's cooking, Sten and Oghren arguing, Wynne trying to stop them, Crush barking … and Kallian kissing me awake.
Please, Maker, let me be having a bad nightmare.
As hard as he wished it, it didn't go away. All this wasn't a dream.
Alistair glanced again at the soldiers' swords pointed at his chest and said aloud, "Where am I, exactly? How did I get here?"
As Alistair threw his hands up in submission, the Seeker marched over and added her sword to the others surrounding him, only hers was dangerously close to his throat. "You don't know how you got here either?! I should execute you right here before another one of you shows up!"
"No!" A bald elf came running up with a dwarf not far behind him. "Stop, Seeker!"
The dwarf stopped up short. "Andraste's flaming ass," he mumbled. "Is that …?" He came a few feet closer. "Are you …? How ... ?"
"You recognize him, Varric?" The Seeker hadn't slit his throat yet, but she didn't move her sword.
The dwarf took a long look and then asked, "Prince Alistair?"
"Prince Alis …?" She narrowed her eyes at Alistair. "The Hero of Ferelden? That Alistair?" The Nevarran moved the sword even closer. "What manner of demon is this?! Varric, step away … NOW!"
Alistair was dumbstruck. He whispered to himself, "I was never a Prince nor this Hero of Ferelden. Kallian had to have been made the Hero of Ferelden."
"What did you say?" Cassandra asked. Alistair didn't think the sword could get any closer without breaking skin.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Varric said while waving his hands.
The elf actually pushed the sword away from Alistair and shoved the Nevarran away. "This is no demon or spirit, Seeker! He bears the mark on his hand. He may be the only chance we have to close the Breach!" He sighed in frustration when she pulled out of his grasp. "Seeker! Look at the color of the mark. It's the same color as the Breach. There must be a link of some kind."
"Solas, there was an older man here for a few minutes … an older version of him. He fell out of a darker portal, not green. And, he … he just disappeared right before this one fell out of a rift!" Cassandra didn't raise her sword again, but the other soldiers didn't lower theirs, either.
The elf Solas furrowed his brow. "Curious. Did the other man have the mark on his hand?"
Cassandra looked to her soldiers and they all shook their heads. "No."
"Devastating magic has taken place here, Seeker. Perhaps time itself has warped. But, that is a guess." He sighed. "The important thing is that he has the mark … and that may be our only salvation."
Something clicked from what the elf said and Alistair slowly turned his left hand to look at it. Some sort of green, glowing thing was embedded in the palm. Greenish-tinged lightning crackled around his hand and forearm. The thing in his hand must have been the result of touching that orb.
It must be that shattered anchor the emissary talked about.
Varric frowned at the elf, but said to the Seeker, "You've believed Solas up to this point, Cassandra."
"He may have just wanted to get us to find his accomplice!" the Seeker said. Several other swords swung to cover Solas.
Varric put on a disarming smile. "Take Alistair to the Breach, Seeker. See if he can close it."
"He could make it worse, Varric! He could finish what he started!" This Nevarran was stubborn.
"It's already 'worse', Seeker. Any delay would only serve to accomplish the end that you fear." This Solas seemed to know something about all this.
Alistair was seriously considering making a run for it when … finally, a familiar face stepped around a tall pile of debris. Leliana! At first, her face registered surprise and shock … fear, but that quickly faded. She kneeled in prayer for a moment while Cassandra glared at Alistair to see his response. When Leliana stood up, her face was unreadable.
She definitely didn't sound like the Leliana he knew. She sounded cold, unfeeling. "He may be a demon wearing the face of an honored hero who died twelve years ago. Don't forget that the Fereldan Templars had to kill that Envy demon hidden in Therinfal after Lord Seeker Lucius left. Maybe there was another envy demon walking the land. Or, he may be a herald … a savior sent by the Maker. Grand Cleric Dorothea has admonished me many times for jumping to conclusions, Cassandra."
Died twelve years ago?! "Leliana!" Alistair pressed toward her and pleaded with the bard. He needed some answers. "What's going on? Where's Kallian? We were on top of Fort Drakon. You were there! We got the Archdemon near death. Did Kallian kill the Archdemon? Don't you remember?! Is the Blight over?!"
Cassandra and several of the soldiers grabbed Alistair and kept him from approaching Leliana. "What is he talking about, Leliana? Who is this Kallian?"
Leliana looked at Alistair like she knew him, but didn't know what he was talking about. "I think Kallian was a Grey Warden who died before I got to Ostagar." She cocked her head at Alistair and glanced at his hand. "He seems confused."
One of the soldiers nearby spoke up. "We all saw a woman in the rift for a moment, Sister Nightingale. She was holding out her hand as if guiding this man, she was. It looked like … Maker save me …" He turned to Cassandra. "What if it was Andraste? What if Andraste sent a hero back to help us now?"
Everything was just getting more crazy and Alistair was becoming more than a little frantic.
Then … a thought hit Alistair. 'Devastating magic' the elf said. It was a crazy thought, but it sort of clarified everything: What if that magic affected more than time? What if it changed history somehow … or maybe, this was a different Ferelden?
Alistair turned to the one friendly person he'd met so far. He quietly asked Varric, "Where are we?"
But, before Varric could reply, a fire hot pain shot up Alistair's left arm and he cried out. For a few moments, all he could see was green with some kind of lightning in it. He fell to his knees.
Leliana gave Alistair a waterskin when the pain subsided a bit. "I say we let him try, Cassandra. He may not have much more time."
"Maker," Alistair said as a soldier helped him sit back down on the crumbled stone.
"Cullen? What do you think?" Cassandra addressed the tall man in Templar plate armor who must have run up in response to Alistair's cry of pain.
Alistair knew Cullen, too — well, a Cullen — but he wasn't about to make the same mistake that he did with Leliana. The Cullen he recalled was a man driven to paranoia and near insanity because Uldred's blood mages killed all his friends and locked him in a force field. That Cullen wanted to kill all the mages in the Circle Tower in Ferelden just on the off-chance they had been possessed. Kallian successfully convinced Greagoir that the mages who survived were fine. This Cullen seemed different, at first glance. Made sense, sort of. Different Ferelden. Different Cullen. Different everybody. I need to remember that, Alistair admonished himself.
The Templar stood in front of Alistair for a moment. Then he asked, "Where did you come from? You should have gone to the Maker's side after you killed the Archdemon at Ostagar."
Ostagar? They killed the Archdemon at Ostagar here? They stopped a Blight before it started?
Definitely a different Ferelden.
Alistair realized that he needed to pull himself together. If he had come from the Fade, maybe the Maker did send him here … or maybe that spirit at that portal was Andraste. Aloud, all he said was, "I … I think I came from a different Ferelden."
Before they could start another round of questions about his memory, something shot down from the sky and landed about fifty feet away. Solas pulled the staff off his back and said a quiet incantation of some sort, followed by, "Kill the demons and we can test it out here."
Varric turned to one of the guards. "Alistair's gonna need that sword and shield." Cassandra glared but didn't stop Varric from handing Alistair the weapon and shield that were leaning against a rock nearby.
Alistair nodded his thanks to Varric.
The portal … what everyone called a "rift" … did not spit out another Alistair. It did spit out a nasty group of demons. Green floating, people-shaped wispy things kept shooting green streaks of pain. After the second time he was hit, Alistair centered a Smite on the demon and it became stunned until Leliana killed it. Unfortunately, the Smite also stunned Solas. "Sorry. Must be out of practice a bit," Alistair said with a sheepish grin.
Once Solas caught his breath and drank a lyrium potion, he just nodded toward a group of the green wisps. "No. No. Keep going … just … hit that demon over there." Then, he pointed to a hunched over creature with a cloud of frost fog surrounding it. "That's a despair demon. Cullen likely wouldn't mind you stopping the stream of ice pellets." Alistair did and it worked.
At Solas' instruction, Alistair tried holding up the palm of his hand with the anchor to the rift and they learned that using it on the rift during a fight stunned the demons for a few moments … helpful to use a poultice or just take a moment's rest. It also seemed to hurt the demons.
Yes, Solas did know something about what was going on, was Alistair's thought.
After several waves of demons were all dead, the rift … paused. Cullen marched over to Alistair. With an angry face, he asked, "Where did you learn that?! Those skills are for Chantry Templars only!"
But, Varric answered. "Our Prince Alistair was once a Templar initiate and I would guess that Alistair here was also in the Ferelden he came from." At Alistair's nod, Varric continued, "Anyway, the Templars ended up sharing some of their abilities to great affect at Ostagar. Grey Wardens use Smites against darkspawn mages all the time now, I hear."
The Templars trained the Grey Wardens here! Alistair thought to himself. He almost laughed at the thought that he used to worry about teaching some of their companions how to do Smites and Cleanses.
"Right, Irminric told me about that." Cullen huffed and turned to Cassandra. "Nevertheless, I don't think a demon would be able to Smite like that. I say let him give a try on the Breach before more of these fall out."
The mention of the name Irminric reminded Alistair of the poor Templar they'd found in Rendon Howe's dungeon in Denerim. Alistair was glad to hear that Irminric was in a position of authority here. Maybe that sordid episode didn't happen here? That would be good news.
Under his breath, Solas mumbled so only Alistair could hear it, "A spirit likely taught that first Templar how to use that skill." Before Alistair could open his mouth to say anything, Solas grabbed Alistair's left hand and held it up toward the swirling green rift. "Again ... concentrate on closing it completely. Use your will to push the power from the mark …" He couldn't finish because Alistair caught the gist of what the elf was saying … and closed it. Solas smiled. "We need to get to the Breach."
When Alistair noticed everyone looking up and behind him, he turned to look in that direction as well. As deadly as the rift was, it was a mere speck compared to the swirling vortex of green evil that spit out a demon … rift … meteor at increasingly shorter intervals … some close by, many traveling so far into the distance that they were lost over the horizon.
"Maker's Breath," was all Alistair could get out. Leliana pulled him out of his stunned gaze at the Breach to make him trot beside them. While they hurried around the bend, Alistair asked, "What happened here … before this?"
Leliana answered. "The mage-templar war was starting to get out of hand. The Circles have disbanded, unleashing unsupervised mages on innocent civilians."
"Don't forget that your ex-boss, Lord Seeker Lambert, lost his mind and pushed for killing all the mages," Varric added. "Especially after the mages learned the Rite of Tranquility could be reversed."
That did cause Alistair to stop a moment and grab Varric's arm. "The Rite of Tranquility can be reversed?!" He thought a moment. "Huh, I bet the Templars didn't want that getting out," he added quietly. From the moment he learned about the Rite of Tranquility in Templar training, Alistair felt it was excessive and wrong. His objections were always met with silence … and extra sparring.
Varric nodded and then they continued on at Cassandra's glare. "Yeah. Since Divine Victoria wasn't doing anything, it took some mages working with Ferelden's Grand Cleric Dorothea to figure it out. Now, there are renegade assholes in Templar armor, running around on some 'righteous' mission to honor the dead Lambert's ... and, presumably now the current Lord Seeker Lucius' ... wishes to kill all the mages."
Leliana opened her mouth to argue, but seemed to decide otherwise. She just huffed and continued, "Divine Victoria put together a Conclave here at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to broker peace." In a lower voice, she added, "Thank the Maker Grand Cleric Dorothea was delayed in attending."
Alistair stopped again. "This is the Temple of Sacred Ashes?!" He recalled the Temple in his Ferelden. They must have restored a lot of it in the twelve years between the time he got knocked out and the time he awoke in that room — a room that looked nothing like any room in the weather-destroyed place he and Kallian had found.
"Yes." Cassandra pushed him to start running again. "Well, it was."
They skidded to a halt when they reached the blown out area — the obvious center of the explosion. The Breach was too far away, up in the sky … but there was a giant rift closer to the ground. "That thing looks huge." Alistair looked at his hand. "I'm not sure this small thing can stop that."
"No," Solas replied. "This was the first rift. We must close it … and, maybe, that will also close the Breach."
"Then, let's get going." Alistair waved to the others in the back. He took a moment to be amused that they were following him. Just like they'd done outside Denerim. So, I'm not king here. But, I'm a Prince. I wonder how that happened. Prince is definitely better than King. However, a herald? a savior? … that's a very different kettle of Redcliffe carp stew. If I have to be honest with myself, it is something I would hope the Maker might do. But, why would He send me?!
They hurried past spikes of red jutting out from the ground and Varric became agitated. "Seeker, that's red lyrium."
"I know what it is, Varric." Cassandra didn't even slow down.
Varric caught up. "But what's it doing here?"
Solas shrugged. "Maybe it was lyrium that was corrupted by the explosion?"
"Whatever, just stay away from it. It's evil!" Varric grumbled.
As they neared the crumbling stairs down, a voice from nowhere, and yet everywhere, echoed, "Someone help me!" It was a woman's voice ... and Alistair remembered hearing it.
Cassandra cried, "That was Most Holy!"
The robes?! The woman in the force field was the Divine?! What happened to the three others who also reached for the orb? All four of them touched the orb at the same time. So, it was the Divine that the soldiers saw. She sent him through that rift. Or, was it a spirit who took the form of the Divine?
They took the stairs three at a time and jumped down into the pit below the rift and the Breach. That's when they heard Alistair's disembodied voice. "What's going on here?!"
Cassandra grabbed Alistair's shoulder. "That's your voice!"
They heard the cries of the others who entered with Alistair.
"Vints here?! Valo-Kas! To me!"
"Sod that. Hey! Grab that thing!"
"Creators! The dwarf's right! Grab that orb!"
"Run while you can! Warn them!" the disembodied voice of the now-identified Divine replied.
The emissary's voice yelled, "We have intruders and they shattered the anchor. The orb is useless. Leave it. Alexius, I hope you fixed that transportation glitch from earlier. Open the portal. The spell is about to backfire."
"Vints?! Tevinter?! What happened?! Why did Most Holy call out to you?!" Cassandra grabbed both of Alistair's shoulders. "Who were those other people?!"
Alistair told her everything he could remember. "I woke up in a room down the hall from … here, I suppose. All we just heard did happen. The one who said, 'We have intruders,' was some kind of an enhanced darkspawn emissary. He and some other mages had blood magicked some Grey Wardens. They were holding the Divine suspended somehow. A Dalish, a dwarf, a Qunari and I touched an orb of some kind that the … Divine … knocked out of the emissary's hand. Alexius opened a portal for the emissary and the mages. They stepped through before the explosion." Before he could say more, another sharp pain hit.
Cassandra turned toward Solas who was now walking around the rift. In a louder voice, she asked, "Solas, what are we hearing?"
"At a guess, memory fragments of what happened here as Alistair just confirmed." He held up his hand to forestall any other questions while investigating the rift more closely. Solas ended by kneeling next to Alistair who was sitting on the ground, trying to regain his senses. "Alistair, close this rift and it might close the Breach." He stopped Alistair from standing for a moment. "You may not survive this."
Alistair nodded that he understood. With a wink and a small grin, he said, "But, I just got here." That made everyone nearby smile.
Then, he stood and got himself ready. "It was a darkspawn. I'm a Grey Warden, Solas. We always do whatever it takes." As soon as he said those brave words … even though he meant them … he wished he hadn't. Murmurs of "hero" and "herald" and "savior, just like his papa" started all around him.
His spinning thoughts, shaking hands and frantic heartbeat certainly belied any kind of hero or savior.
"Seeker, you need to know that this rift is closed at the moment but it is unstable. We will need to open it and then close it properly." Solas frowned. "That will likely draw attention from the other side."
"That means demons!" Cassandra turned to the soldiers and archers who had filled in and surrounded the rift. "Stand ready!"
Solas added, "We must try to protect the Herald at all costs. Since we don't know if anyone else survived, I have no idea how we will close possible distant rifts if he perishes."
She motioned to nearby soldiers to surround Alistair. "Protect the Herald!" She nodded to Alistair when everyone was in place. Her gaze was determined … but had softened to sympathetic, respectful. Even the Seeker was beginning to believe this Herald stuff.
Alistair didn't feel particularly weak, but he knew that he might take a hit when he opened the portal again. He took a deep breath and did as Solas had taught him.
It took longer … a lot longer. His entire body was beginning to shake when the portal finally opened.
Of course, it had to spit out a giant pride demon.
As he had feared, Alistair went down on one knee to try to shake off the effect of the mark on the giant rift.
"Herald!" Solas yelled from the other side of the clearing. "Try the mark on the rift again to disable the demon!"
"Right." Alistair tried again to focus on the rift with the mark on his hand. This time didn't take as long nor was it as tiring. Good news? The demon started showing signs of injury. Bad news … other demons came through the rift. Alistair lifted his shield and drew his sword. They were coming for him and he was not going to just stand there while others died to protect him.
He lost count of the number of cycles it took, but the pride demon was finally defeated along with the other demons. The rift paused.
"Now, Alistair." Solas looked grim.
"Maker be with you, Alistair!" Leliana shouted from the elevated area where she stood.
"Everyone get behind something!" Alistair shouted as he put away his sword and slipped his shield on his back. "We have no idea what will happen," he yelled as he secured his helm tighter.
"I will stand by your side." Cassandra looked resolute.
Alistair smiled at her. He nodded to the soldiers around them who were also not leaving. "Please?"
She looked at the soldiers also standing their ground with her. After motioning to the others nearby to follow her, she took a deep breath and stepped behind a wall that withstood the initial blast … hopefully, it was still strong enough to withstand whatever was going to happen now. The other soldiers followed her. They were behind cover, but near enough to aid him, if necessary.
He took a few seconds to consider that they were all looking to him to save them. Just like the citizens of Denerim once the Archdemon showed up. He would never know if the Archdemon was killed on his Fort Drakon … or if anyone survived. Maybe that other Ferelden was gone. But, this Ferelden did survive. Maybe that was why the Maker sent him here … another chance to do whatever it took to stop this, whatever it was. But, why me? It should be a real hero … it should be Kallian standing here.
Once everyone was behind cover, Alistair put his back against one of the walls. He poured all of his concentration into the mark. The green lightning surrounded not only his hand, but his arm and eventually his entire body. The pain threatened to break his will, but Alistair put it out of his mind. This had to work. The Blight had been handled here the way it should have. These people had the right to survive this.
They had survived the Archdemon.
He heard Cassandra praying nearby, imploring the Maker to protect Alistair. He was grateful for that. He didn't have the consciousness to do it for himself.
The mark connected to the giant rift through a long constant arc of green force. It seemed to go on forever. Alistair heard himself crying out in pain, but he ignored it.
Silence descended when the giant rift closed. The Breach looked unchanged. And, then … a blinding light.
That was all he remembered.
…
AN: And, so, there you have it. Inquisition was just an alternate timestream … or AU … version of Origins! That's why Haven looked so different! ;) Sorry this is being posted a day late. Three days of tabletop gaming because a friend's son was in town makes Mazanti a sleepy puppy. :D
Next week? A couple of the other "heralds" are introduced. Also, the return of the First Warden … and griffons!
Thanks to benjammindeth for adding WHWH to your follow list! :)
Judy, thanks again for the pick-me-up! :)
