Her lungs were positively screaming at this point. There was so much smoke. Bodies of humans, elves, dwarves, darkspawn, all of them were burning. Elissa's eyes would've been watering had they not been dry from all the smoke. She felt like...like sand again. She had not felt so dry and disgusting since fleeing Highever.
Maker, it was like everything was coming full-circle. First the fire and the smoke, then the dryness and blood, and now the sand. She hated it. She hated how dry she felt. It was awful.
Thankfully that was the least of her worries. There were darkspawn scattered about the thick clouds, mixed in with people she knew, allies, and people she loved. It was dangerous to blindly swing at every shape she saw, but it was so difficult to distinguish a person from darkspawn.
When they'd first gotten through the tower, Elissa had plowed into Aedan thinking he was a hurlock. She was relieved to see him. It was good. He was alive. That much she would be grateful for. Leliana was here. She knew both were as safe as they could possibly be right now. At least they were nearby. If they got hurt, she could protect them.
A rather large hurlock came charging for her. Elissa barely had the energy or willpower to move her body, sidestepping out of the way as the alpha brought its sword around at her chest. She had left her shield in that pile of rubble, unwilling to possibly restrict herself from casting spells with it on. This wasn't the first time since she made that decision that she regretted it.
She regretted leaving it behind in the Deep Roads. She regretted it now, too. Perhaps she should learn how to fight without it, but then, that would be a waste, anyway, would it not?
As their swords locked, another hurlock came for her, and Elissa had to disengage from the alpha to avoid being run through. The hurlock reverted, switching stance to chop for her arm, but Elissa stepped away and into the alpha, slapping aside its shield to smack it in the face with her pommel. It staggered and she spun, bringing her sword up as the hurlock brought its down. The force of the blow jarred her arm, but she ignored the pain and pushed past, knocking the weapon aside.
Her muscles were straining. Every single one cried as she overused them, and she felt her body draining itself of the energy she used to cast spells to push onward. She felt invigorated, pain washing away like dirt in the rain, and it was such a relief. She needed that.
That sixth sense she possessed spun her as the alpha struck at her exposed back. Elissa met steel with steel and with a simple push, threw it off balance. A quick swipe of her sword, and its head rolled lamely to the ground.
Growing up, Elissa had thought decapitating someone was easy. Knights spoke of it like it was effortless, but now that she was an adult, she knew it was hard. You had to throw every ounce of strength into your sword to cut through a spine.
Elissa didn't have the energy to do so as they battled their way up the tower, but she did here. It was such an oddly wondrous feeling. Her muscles demanded release, demanded to move, and Elissa would be foolish to ignore them.
The hurlock slammed its shield into her chest, knocking the wind out of her, but she remained on her feet, instead locking her fingertips around the lip of the twisted metal. She gave a sharp yank and stepped to the side, allowing the darkspawn to stumble forward. In the same motion, Elissa drove her sword between its shoulders.
Oh, did it feel good to reset like this. She was glad it saved itself for this moment. She was glad she didn't expend herself so thoroughly that she had to need this. This was the perfect time for it.
Somewhere in the smoke, a dragon lurked. A dragon that she would kill. A dragon she would save her brother from wasting his life on. A dragon she would save Ferelden from dying to. Killing this dragon would be her redemption. This would be how she changed who she was.
And who knows? In whatever afterlife there may be, Elissa might even be able to apologize to her parents. Yes, that would be nice. She could tell them she loved them. She could tell her mother she appreciated every stupid lesson she ended up not needing. She could tell her father she appreciated his protection. She could tell them how much she loved and appreciated everything they tried to do for her. She could tell them she was sorry.
Yes, Elissa would be okay with dying if she could have that. She could tell them they were wonderful people that didn't deserve her resentment. She could give them the love they deserved.
Some part of Elissa knew that they knew. Some part knew they were sorry. Some part knew they wished life could've been different for their entire family.
Elissa wished they could've run away. All five of them. Her parents, Fergus, Aedan, herself. She wanted nothing more than to redo everything. She wished she could go back and tell them that. She wished she had told that ghost of her father in the temple she was sorry.
Yes, this would be a good way to go out. She could live with that. Her brothers would mourn her, sure, but they would move on. Aedan had Anora and an entire kingdom to look forward to and love. Fergus would have Highever and someday, a new wife and new family. She could give that to them.
The Maker could give her that much, right? He could forgive her for all the sins she had committed. He could forgive her for being the way she was. After all, He gave her someone to love. Couldn't He give one last thing so she could go in peace? She hoped so.
All she had to do was find that damned dragon and kill it. Then her little family could move on and live their lives. They could prosper. They could forget about her and be happy.
At the end of the day, that was all Elissa wanted. For her brothers and Leliana to be happy. She was willing to die for that, she thought.
Elissa pulled her sword free from the shriek she'd been dueling. Another came, but she dispatched it with a flick of her wrist. She watched in mild fascination as the ice she'd shot at it rapidly encased it. Magic had always been a difficult aspect of her life, but it came so naturally now that it almost made her wish she wasn't going to die.
She was capable of so much. This elf that needed her as much as she needed it, they could do so many great things together, and she was almost sad her time with it was coming to an end. Elissa had never truly gotten to understand her and vice versa; Elissa didn't even know if she had a name. She had been content to let her believe she was a spirit of hope, but Elissa didn't believe that was her name. It was probably another lost memory like everything she had shown her.
Elissa felt sorry for her. She could feel the elf—Hope—express something similar.
The Archdemon roared a thunderous boom, and only a few feet ahead, she saw its shadow as it breathed fire on a group of unsuspecting combatants. Allies and darkspawn alike were burnt to a crisp in a matter of seconds, but as soon as the light from the flame subsided, Elissa couldn't see the dragon again.
Frustrated, she brought her arm in towards her chest, and when she threw it back out, the clouds and smoke exploded. The spell drained her, but she could see again, and so could everyone else.
Several elves were close to her. They looked around in brief amazement before the darkspawn began attacking, and now, she had the dragon's full attention.
In its eyes, Elissa saw an ancient wisdom and awareness she never wanted to see again. It knew she was its biggest threat. It knew what that spell took out of her. Elissa couldn't help doubling over in exhaustion, but she didn't even have the chance. With one, quick swipe of its tail, the dragon swept her off her feet and sent her flying.
What she hit, she didn't know. All she knew was it hurt. Somewhere, Elissa thought she heard Aedan cry out for her, but she wasn't sure. Her head was throbbing, and when she tried to lift herself, she collapsed.
Elissa knew she passed out. It was brief, mere seconds, but Maker, did she wish she could go back to that state. She hadn't felt a thing for those precious seconds and it was delightful.
With that brief burst of energy gone, Elissa could feel every wound and every injury she had sustained. She could feel her knuckles bleeding through her gloves—there were ten small pools of blood soaking the leather. She'd skinned them at some point, either when she rolled across the cobblestones here, or when she did down on that street.
Her chest was practically sobbing with pain. She couldn't expand her lungs to breathe and something sharp was stabbing into the rib she had sloppily healed earlier. It took every ounce of strength she had to fumble for the straps of her chestplate. There were four of them and she had to undo each and every one before she felt any form of relief.
Her right arm wouldn't work. It had been snapped, crushed just like her chestplate had been. It wouldn't work, so she was forced to fumble and scramble with her left. Maker, did it feel wrong.
Elissa tried to stand, pushing up to her knees, and then slowly rose, but her legs buckled, and she fell again. She barely caught herself with her one hand, letting out a soft whimper as her impossibly dry eyes tried to cry.
She was so tired. She lifted her head, barely seeing as her brother and Alistair tried to take the Archdemon on themselves, but the latter had to pull Aedan out of the way as it tried to torch them. Several wounds in its side were bleeding, but all were small, practically inconsequential. The only damage of note was its torn wing, and she doubted that would stop it for long.
Elissa let her arm fall. Her head hit the ground, but she didn't feel it. Everything was so far away, and as her eyes closed, she thought she saw Sten turning one of the massive ballistae on the dragon.
That was it!
Elissa barely recalled the dream she'd had of this battle. She hadn't been looking at the wounds on the dragon then, only a lame passenger in her own body as it carried out the actions set before it, but she saw it now. Sten had hit it, hadn't he? He wouldn't miss. She could see the bolt sticking out of its hide. She could remember the blood and how drained it had looked.
Elissa forced her eyes to open, but it was too late. She had missed the shot. It must've struck, though, because the dragon roared in pain, lashing out with both fire and tail before collapsing.
She couldn't see Aedan. Where was he?
No, focus. Again, she tried to stand. She looked for where she knew her sword would be, forced her fingers to wrap around the hilt. The leather felt good in her grasp, but foreign. This wasn't her dominant hand.
The world felt slow even though she knew she was too exhausted and beaten to be using any sort of magic. Elissa had already taken these steps before, trudging and practically begging her legs to go. She knew how many it would take.
She tripped over that same stupid bow, stumbled right into the dragon's massive skull. She fell on it. She could feel its eye open as it looked at her, regarding her coolly.
That gaze was unnerving. It disturbed her, but then, she didn't have to look the Archdemon in the eye, did she? All she had to do was kill it.
It would all be over, just like that. No more creepy eyes, no more pain. It would all just...cease.
The last thing she heard was Aedan screaming her name.
AN: Sorry for the double update, just felt this would be split up better into two chapters. Originally this and the previous were supposed to be one! Thanks for reading :)
