A/N: Yo.
The Beginning of a New Era
Chapter Eight
Mending What Was Broken
She couldn't help but smile with pride at the sight before her. Hundreds of mages, camped outside and around Haven, living proof that she was on the right path. Hundreds that would have been lost without her actions. She didn't even want to think of that the Venatori would have done with them if she hadn't arrived.
Cullen had raised some valid points about the dangers of having so many mages – some of them not having gone through some Circle ritual called 'the Harrowing', meant to prove that they could withstand demons so that they wouldn't become Abominations.
According to Leliana, she, the Hero of Ferelden, an apostate mage he was fond of and a man called Alistair had met Cullen in the Ferelden Circle while there were some issues regarding apostates and Abominations. Together with what had happened in Kirkwall, where he'd been second in command, it had left a mark on their commander.
In truth, there were only two problems caused by the arrival of the Mages, a need for Lyrium, for which they had quickly gotten into contact with the Carta to fulfill, and a need for space. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Haven was, at its roots, a small village in the mountains, its greatest luxury an inn for pilgrims on the road. It wasn't something that they could solve quickly though. Dwellings would have to be built, granaries erected, and the lackluster walls of the settlement expanded if the Inquisition was to truly call Haven its headquarters.
But for now, they could finally do what the Inquisition had been formed to do – seal the Breach, permanently. Even as she stood there, enjoying a rare, quiet moment, Solas was drawing up the way that would be done, while Dorian and Vivienne established a hierarchy for their new allies.
Sera was doing… something, somewhere, probably making mages smell or some other childish nonsense, she thought with a fond smile, Varric would be drinking at the tavern, telling his stories to the Iron Bull, Cassandra would be training – either herself or their recruits – with the Warden, Blackwall probably standing somewhere, brooding. And unless she missed her guess, Gjalder would be thinking of what the words she brought from the future meant. She certainly had no idea.
She looked up at the Breach, so close and yet so far. Soon.
0o0o0o0
'Lovok kent viin zeim raf, nunon voth joor vi hi dreh daar. Aetherius must shine through the Breach, only with the mortals can you do this.' He pounded his fists into the table. What did that mean? If only Ellana had remembered the other Dovahzul phrases his other-self had said, perhaps it would have been easier. But no, he suspected that there was a reason that she didn't, that his other had… meddled with her mind. He could certainly do it. The school of Illusion was not one he had spent particularly much effort on, but he knew enough to alter such things, however crudely.
He was overthinking this. His other knew how important this was. He wouldn't give himself an important riddle, only for it to be unsolvable. Aetherius must shine through… At least the second part, 'Only with the mortals can you do this' was easy enough. Get his moldy behind moving or it would become impossible.
He didn't fancy the thought of being stuck in Thedas, cut off from his birthright, his home, his people. From Serana. Eight and One, how long it had been since they last spoke. A few letters – with frosty replies – did not sustain a friendship.
Divines but he missed her. He'd never told her – never told anyone, how could he? That he had met the woman of his dreams, that she helped him kill her own father, that she was an ancient vampire of great power? His people would never have accepted them.
He sighed. He wasn't even sure she would.
'Vampires. Aetherius must shine through. Yes!' He had it. It would be difficult, but he had it.
He would have to do as Magnus and the other Anuic did, at the dawn of the world. Tear a hole through the fabric of what-was into what lay beyond. He would have to consult his Elder Scroll for advice – something he was loath to do, it was dangerous to rely on them too much, or at all, for that matter.
But he would let Aetherius – or what else he found – shine through the Breach. Damn the natives and what they thought of it.
0o0o0o0
They were finally doing. They were actually doing it. She could barely believe it. Solas had figured out a way. The mages they had gathered would draw as much power as they could, then simply let it flounder in the air behind her, which she would then draw through her Mark and use to seal the Breach – permanently. No more Rifts would appear, and Solas even said that barring any complications, there would be no way of telling that the Breach had ever existed.
"Time to shine, boss," came the deep voice of the Iron Bull, pulling her out of her reverie. Okay. Okay.
She had elected to walk to the site, rather than ride, a decision she quickly came to regret. It seemed that everyone in the Inquisition that wouldn't be at the Breach was here, watching her. She could feel their hopes, see the trust in their eyes. They all believed in her.
She couldn't let them down.
Blink.
"Mages!" Cassandra called. When did I get here? "Focus past the Herald!" Solas shouted, "Let her will draw from you!"
She moved closer to the shining tear in the fabric of reality. It resisted, as though it knew she was trying to close it, which was ridiculous. It was just a thing. But as she moved closer, it started flashing aggressively, the air seemed to grow hot, then cold, then hot again, all the while she was being buffeted by ethereal winds.
But she made it. She stood in front of the original Rift, the one that fed directly into the Breach above, and she reached out, taking all the magic that was pooled behind her and channeling it through her Mark as she went through the motions.
Open it all the way first, then close it again. That was what Solas had said.
She set herself and tore. The world flashed green, she reeled with the effort.
A surge of power, not magic, at least not any kind she knew of came into being on her right, a quick look telling her it was Gjalder, unfurling a large, golden scroll. Solas seemed to know something about what Gjalder was doing, shouting "No!" as Gjalder read something from the object. He was ignored.
A crack like thunder shook the world, words of such terrible power that the mountains themselves must surely bend.
"KUN VIIN HEZ!"
She felt the power erupt from her friend, being carried into the Rift by the power she wielded, making contact with something on the other side.
She saw Gjalder's eyes, normally shimmering, now glowing with power, as a flash of light came from the Fade, and then she was falling, falling, falling…
0o0o0o0
The Elder Scroll's power flew through the Rift, tearing holes in reality as it went, the Scroll itself disintegrating before his eyes. He wasn't worried. An Elder Scroll could not be destroyed any more than all of reality could. Its purpose here was simply done, and so it left. But its purpose…
It was done. He could feel it, wondering how he even survived here before, without this.
Aetherius was here, a shining pillar of light coming from the scarred sky, far above, but the pillar…
It was already changing. What was happening? Where it had just been a solid golden-white, now it was flickering inside, the outermost reaches never shifting, but the inside…
Angry reds, malevolent blues, lurid pinks and disorienting yellows, so many colors, flickering here and there, not a single constant.
Oh. He had been beyond Aetherius when he was brought to Thedas, and so it took more than Aetherius to pierce the was-not between. The infinite reaches of Oblivion had followed.
But it was working. Something inside him that he hadn't even realized was gone had returned.
He turned in time to see Ellana crumble. He truly hoped she lived, but this was more important than one woman's life, even as magnificent one as hers. Although, neither Solas nor Cassandra seemed to share his opinion.
"What did you do!" came the furious whisper of the elven apostate, the man who never raised his voice, "How could you do this to her! After everything that you did. Was it all a lie? A trick, to get here?"
He looked the elf in the eyes, noticing the flinch as his too-bright gaze fell on him, his sight of souls returning to him, even then, seeing something ancient behind the youthful face.
"It was necessary, Kruziik Grohiik," he said, suddenly certain that the shape in his dreams was the elf before him, switching to Solas' native tongue, "As I am certain that your acts have been. Tend to her, make sure she survives. She deserves better."
"You speak Elvhen? But how?"
"Zu'u tinvaak suleyk, fahriil. I speak in the languages of power."
"What," came the demanding hiss from the Seeker, "did you do to her."
He sighed. "An unfortunate accident, Cassandra. The light of Aetherius often burns the unwary, and I only realized what I had to do scant hours ago," he said in a tired voice, "otherwise I would have prepared her to withstand it."
He looked around, seeing the angry and jubilant faces of the mages around him.
"I ought to go, I think. Do not worry, I won't be far," he said as he turned to leave, "Oh, and Solas? Stay out of my dreams," he added over his shoulder, leaving the angry woman and mystified mage behind.
Zu'u lost daal.
0o0o0o0
He smiled at the people below, quietly enjoying their merriment as he watched them from the Chantry's roof, amused at their thinking that the pillar of light, that even now struck the sky from where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had stood, was a sign from their Maker that Ellana was truly sent by the divine.
As he sat there, musing, he saw Ellana and Cassandra come walking by, having what looked like an important conversation.
"… to him, whatever your 'friend' did is permanent, he has never seen anything like it, apparently it is a pillar of pure power, coming from somewhere beyond the…" he heard before their voices grew too faint to hear.
Sounded like he had lost quite a bit of respect from Cassandra. A pity. He quite liked her, even if the rumors he'd heard regarding her family were disconcerting for a Dov in a mortal's body.
He sat there still as the stars came out, now truly feeling the difference between Thedas and Nirn, evident in the night sky. These stars held no power, no magic poured from them, nor from the sun.
After a while, he noticed something odd at the other end of the valley, though. Small pinpricks of light, growing in number, steadily growing bigger.
He thought of what it could be, it felt as though it should be blindingly obvious, and he was sure he had seen a scene like it before, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
'Honestly, it almost looks like an… Oh.'
He jumped down from the Chantry's roof, his unarmored form landing gently on the snow beneath as he dashed away to find the Inquisition's curly haired commander.
As he reached the main gate, he caught the last snippets of a sentence "… he knows you, you took his mages. There," the odd looking… child? Young man? Said as he pointed up towards a cliff where a heavily armored man with a strange looking sword-spear thing came into view, shortly followed by…
It looked like an enormous male Hagraven with Red Lyrium growing out of its face and chest.
Eight and One, what is that thing?
It just… looked at them for a while before it headed back down the other side of the cliff.
"… he's very angry that you took his mages," the strange one continued.
"Cullen give me a plan, anything!" Ellana demanded.
"Haven is no fortress, if we are to withstand his forces, we must control the battlefield –"
"Thought you'd never ask," Gjalder said as he revealed himself to them.
"Oh no, you have done enough," Cullen barked at him.
"That's tough Commander, seeing as I'm going to do it no matter what. I crafted a conduit to Aetherius. This? This will be easy," he said, leaving them behind without another word.
"MUL QAH DIIV!" he shouted, barely noticing as his power wreathed him in its protective embrace, his arms and chest glowing with unrestrained power.
"WULD NAH KEST!" he continued, dashing forward towards the approaching army. The last time he had fought an army was, what, fifteen years ago? The Thalmor had sent a very large inquisitorial squad to Skyrim, disturbed by Elenwen's reports of 'a very powerful Talos worshipper, who is amassing an enormous following of heretics.'
He had routed them in the same mountain pass the Imperials had caught him in, back before he knew who – and what – he was.
But he had never fought like this. Unarmed and unarmored. And his foes…
They wore armor that looked to be of the same make as some of the Inquisitions forces, a burning sword, tilted down. Templars. But these were different. All of them had Red Lyrium growing from them, some just a little, but he could see one in the distance that was as large as a giant from back home.
He let the glee he was feeling show on his face as he reached into Oblivion and bound two lesser Daedra into the shape of swords.
"Tiid Klo Ul," he whispered, the act of slowing time being less imposing his will, as much as it was embracing the way a Dov saw time.
Without hesitation he slipped in amongst the Templars, his conjured blades cutting through flesh and steel with equal ease until he faced one of the more… altered, ones.
He could feel his perception of time speeding back up, so he struck against the once-man, but when his blade struck one of the crystals growing out of the beast's body, the binding he had placed on the Daedroth was broken, the glowing sword winking out of existence once more.
'What?'
He banished the blade in his off hand, reaching out with bare hands to snap the beast's neck with a powerful tug, taking the time to glance around him. He stood in the middle of a circle, a path leading from the edge to Haven, lined by corpses.
He could see Ellana in the distance, firing a trebuchet into their enemies, crushing groups of them with every shot. But he could see them swarming towards her position. She was going to be overrun.
He started running towards her as she gave orders for her team to retreat, but he knew he wouldn't make it as the vile things finally swarmed the siege engine…
Only to suddenly be engulfed in a torrent of lightning, wrapping itself around Ellana. There was none of the feelings of the Thedosians Fade-magic involved, he could feel it, so how? It looked so much like when he wreathed himself in the powers of the Destruction school, but the people here had no access to Aetherius, and even with his conduit would likely never be able to make more than smoke.
Except… the Mark on Ellana's palm, the one that let her physically enter the world of dreams, to close the Rifts, did it act as a shortcut? He would have to pay more attention to her, see if she could learn.
He liked the girl, and if he could give her an advantage by teaching her these things, he would do it in a heartbeat.
His musings were cut short as Ellana and her little group used the lull in the fighting to fire another shot from the siege engine, this one soaring far away from the approaching army.
'What does she think she's… Oh. Clever girl.'
She had wreathed the stone in Fade-fire, the rock plummeting into the mountainside in the distance before detonating. He was far away, but even so, he heard the roar of the avalanche that buried the mountain pass that led to Haven – and quite a few of their men with it.
The forces of the Inquisition cheered, their enemies were cut off from reinforcements and victory seemed assured. Gjalder didn't, he was old enough to know that things like this were never easy, someone powerful enough to gather an army of that size and tear a hole in the sky would not take a defeat lightly. They would escalate. Always.
And so it was this time. A terrible screeching sound came from the newly buried pass, followed by a flash of wrong-red fire, destroying the trebuchet as a shadow darted across the sky.
He saw it as it banked above, four strong legs, two wings erupting from its back, a sinuous tail and a cruel head, connected by a powerful body.
The only word he could think of to describe it was 'dragon', but that… thing, it was certainly no Dov.
But maybe he could use the same weapons against it?
'JOOR ZAH FRUUL!' he Shouted at it, feeling his power wrap around its darkened scales. watching as the beast reeled from the sheer force unleashed at it, but continue flying.
Very much not a Dov.
0o0o0o0
"What is that bloody thing?" someone shouted.
"It's a bloody dragon you moron, now get moving! We need to get into Haven, now!" she shouted back, getting up and brushing the dirt from her armored robes as she did.
"Gjalder!" she shouted, just as she heard the ear-splitting crack of his strange powers thunder across the sky, seeing him staring intently at the dragon above, then look puzzled – or resigned? – when it didn't do anything. "We need to get into Haven, come on!"
She dashed through the gates to the village, the place where she'd woken up in chains and then become a leader, the place she had helped fortify. Not that it mattered in the end, none of them had expected their enemy to have a bloody dragon to wipe out their defenses.
"Move it, move it!" Cullen shouted from just inside the gate as the five of them ran through, "we need to get everyone into the Chantry, it is the only building that might stand a chance against that… that beast! At this point, might as well make them work for it," he mumbled under his breath.
"Gjalder, can you help us rescue the villagers? They won't survive on their own," she asked, the question finally seeming to shake him from his stupor.
"Of course. I will take the west side of the village, you and yours clear the east," he said as he rushed off, a large, two-handed sword that was partially transparent suddenly appearing in his hands as he went.
0o0o0o0
'Eight and One, this is getting out of hand. A not-Dovah with too many legs, Ellana suddenly channeling proper magic, those damn crystals dispelling my conjurations. What is going on?' Gjalder thought to himself as he absently removed a Red Templar's head from its shoulders. At least his makeshift blade had to actually touch the crystals growing from them to vanish.
'Not that it helps much against those damned things. What Prince did I offend to deserve this?' he mused as he tossed a ball of fire at a misshapen monstrosity with crystals growing like tumors out its back.
It was madness. The village was on fire with the Red Templars swarming all over the place, the corpses of the unlucky residents who didn't get to the Chantry fast enough littering the streets.
"Gjalder!" someone suddenly shouted, Leliana maybe? "We found another way out! Get to the Chantry, quickly!"
Who the hell was that? Not like it mattered. When he got to the Chantry, he found it to be nearly deserted, only the cooling corpse of one of the religious fellows that had complained a great deal about Ellana. And a very convenient backdoor, a set of tracks already in the process of being obscured by a sudden snowstorm.
Well, he thought to himself, he'd tracked things in worse conditions.
0o0o0o0
Ellana woke with a groan, trying to sit up, only to fall down onto something very cold instead. Where was she? How did she get here?
It came back in a flash. Closing - or trying to, at least - the Breach, the celebrations, the attack. What happened? Last things she remembered was sending some villagers to the Chantry, before…
Oh. One of those enormous things had backhanded her while she tried to seal one of the holes in the palisade, sending her flying. But why was she underground?
Didn't matter. She had to get moving, it was far too cold for her to survive, and there was nothing she could burn except for some old supports, and she wasn't too keen on exchanging one kind of death for another.
She got up, flailing her arms wildly in an attempt to keep her balance, only to notice some odd, flickering Fade-light following them.
The Mark was flickering, bursting. She could feel the power flowing through it, even as she stumbled to the exit of wherever she was.
And just before she reached it, she saw several pools of darkness condense, pulling themselves upwards like liquid shadows.
Shades. Not very threatening, when it came to demons, but she really didn't want to fight in her condition. Only…
She could feel them too, she realized. Through the Mark? She looked at them, and her palm, getting an idea.
She pointed at one, set herself, and pulled.
She didn't know exactly what she thought was going to happen, but a tiny Rift bursting into being in the middle of the group of demons was certainly not it.
The Shades all stopped moving towards her, staring that the Rift, edging closer to the feel of home.
It burst, tearing them apart, the energies that held them together disappearing, leaving small globules behind instead.
Huh. She could use that, only…
She was so very tired now. So tired…
A/N Woop woop, it's the sound of an update! Thanks for the reviews and all that jazz, those things are lovely. Seriously.
Fun fact: Daedroth is both a specific type of Daedra and the word for a singular denizen of Oblivion. Daedra is the plural.
Quick Dovahzul, which I totally forgot last chapter (but only when it isn't translated in-story)
Mul Qah Diiv – A Shout, Dragon Aspect.
Wuld Nah Kest – A Shout, Whirlwind Sprint.
Joor Zah Fruul - A Shout, Dragonrend.
Kun Viin Hez – A Shout, 'Light Shine Through'.
Kruziik Grohiik – Ancient Wolf.
Fahliil – Elf.
Zu'u lost daal – I have returned.
So, uh, it has, ah, been a while. Actually had most of this chapter written, uhh, about a year ago? Been even longer since I actually played Inquisition though. And Skyrim, for that matter. Pretty sure that I did some