Chapter 38: Traitors
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls Series or the Dragon Age Series.
Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda and Dragon Age belongs to Bioware
A/N: Very sorry everyone but I had trouble thinking. Don't worry, I'll try to get back on track. And by the way, you might want to read up on chap 37 again if you've forgotten.
"How- how did you possess that?!" Vel raised with an expanded repertoire of tendrils and energy flowing from his eyes.
"Ah, ah, ah," Marcus held the orb back, relaxing his grip. "You know what happens if I let go."
"You wouldn't dare kill us all and release another Breach," Vel graveled in an ever raspy voice. "You care for your friends."
"I care enough not to let them die in agony of you and your blood magic," Marcus glared as he stepped forth. "I can't let you get the Fea Opus."
"IT IS MINE!" The magister roared. "You will not stop me from achieving my destiny of ascension."
Evermore monstrous features broke out on the Magister; spikes tore from his shoulders, blood oozed between armor plates, and a fume exhumed so noxiously that several of the mercenaries fell and choked. But Marcus remained unwavering in his suicidal move and the two were locked in a standoff, neither willing nor unsure to make the next move. But for others, it was time to act.
The Champion of Kirkwall could barely process the situation. His head turned every way for a course of action. But each one would only end in his friends dying or Marcus unleashing another Breach.
"There's no way out from it," he gritted as hung his head.
Don't go out on me yet, Hawke. Our plan can still work.
The voice of Vesnia in his head reared the Champion to her. She was trained on Marcus along with Cassius, magic at the ready.
Telepathic communication, Hawke. Vesnia spoke again. Don't question it and listen. I need you to keep these two talking, long enough for us to free the others.
A grunt came from Hawke, frustration mounting of the choice presented. Yet with the room hot, he had to act. His teeth gritted before expunging for his mouth to open wide and screamed, "PUMPERNICKEL!"
The Maker himself couldn't lift the awkwardness if he could. All eyes dropped and turned to Hawke, perturbed and dumbfounded at the sudden declaration. That brief moment allowed for Vesnia to make her move, ejecting wind from her palm.
"Shit."
A voice elected to curse near the imprisoned companions, revealing to Varric and Narria fallen on their bums.
"YOU!" Vel exclaimed as he turned around.
"The orb!" Vesnia shouted, directing the magister back to Marcus leaping from a giant axe.
"Battlemage!" the wielder of the axe, a seven-foot-tall man, elicited as he cratered where Marcus stood. "Fight me!" he roared with warrior's valor.
The orb left from Marcus's grasp, sputtering violently out of control as it burst out in electric flames.
"You fool!" Vel said, radiating out his tendrils to envelope the orb. The room and its guests were blown away from the gigantic sphere of blood that was to absorb the blast of the green electricity breaking off to its maximum explosion. Reaching its zenith, it exploded and it was over.
"What is this?" Vel permeated in his raspy voice, held in confusion as green particles and dust puffed out instead.
"Marcus?" Hawke questioned from across to the battlemage as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Bit of my magic and alchemy can make for a really convincing explosion, don't you think?"
"ENOUGH!" Vel said.
The magister's rage was never greater than before. In blistering speed, his magic moved with fury, grabbing everyone in blood-soaked hands. Friends and foe alike were pinned against the walls, screaming in pain together.
"THERE WILL BE NO MORE OF THIS... THIS IDIOCY. NO MORE! THE POWER IS MINE!"
"Vel, no!"
The cries of Vesnia falling on deaf ears as Vel's orb was placed into the pedestal. The magister cackled with true villainy as it powered on, lights on energy flowing towards the floor and to the walls.
"YES!" Vel let out as white flashed in an instant.
Spirals of dread twisted high above into an endless green void filled with black and red stones. So familiar that Piven leaped to his feet, crawling down to a tumble until pressing what felt to be legs.
"Hello."
Piven jumped, raising his hands. "Oh, Dirthamen. It's... you," Piven relaxed. "How… what has happened? Is this…"
"I think you know the answer young child," the Elvhen god replied, lifting him to his feet, "and how?"
The young Dalish merely remembered the show of spectacle by Marcus and then somehow a bright light just flashing before his eyes. When Vel… no… did he…?
"He did not create a Breach if you must know," Dirthamen raised a hand to pause further words. "However, the situation is still dire. For this is not a dream, but you are here physically in the Fade."
"What?!" Piven exclaimed, thoughts beginning to race with ever more questions. "H-how?"
"We gods were powerful, child, and created just as powerful creations. However, some we created in order to deter non-elvhen from our artifacts. This is the product of such that the Tevinter mage activated in his foolish quest."
The elvhen god gestured to Piven to follow along, reaching to the edge of a cliffside overlooking an amalgamation of… well, he didn't know how to describe such a thing. A winding maze from a first look but it was so warped yet focused at the same time. And the longer he stared at it felt as though his spine was starting to rip.
"There's no need to be afraid," Dirthamen said. "Not so long as we are here, no harm shall befall you. From that or the magister."
"We?"
"We," he nodded.
Out from the flashing vortexes, they appeared. Just… awe was what Piven could describe. Awe and deference as all the Evanuris appeared before the young Dalish. "Ancestors," he merely replied as he knelt. Though he knew what each was meant to look like, Piven still guessed he would be right to tell from merely a look.
Sylaise was the one with long golden hair, with intricate robes of quite fashionable design and armor overlaid with a dress. The one that glowed as though with Lyrium in both his eyes and armor was June, wielding a staff that was a mixture of mechanical and magical nature. Falon'Din was easy, looking exactly the same as his brother beneath the hood and a more friendly demeanor from his face. Ghilan'nain with a headpiece that resembled a halla's horns and a dress as pure color as their fur. That left Andruil, the elvhen woman in tight armor. Her armor was animalistic with sharp claws and hair tapered down like a predator's mane. Finally, that left one. Older than rest, stern brows and eyes yet calm. Father to all, Elgar'nan.
"What… what is happening, if I may ask?" Piven asked as he bowed.
"Why, something spectacular… obviously," Andruil flared. "No need to be such a scared little boy."
Piven hunched in as the Elvhen goddess reached down with her hands that looked utterly painfully to grab from the claws.
"Ow," she cried playfully as a quick hand struck her head.
"This is no time for your games, Andruil," Elgar'nan snided as he strode by with the others. "There is work to be done and we don't need the boy to be more distracted as is."
"Yeah, I mean honestly… grow up Andy," June commented before jumping away from a swipe from Andruil.
It bewildered Piven that the Elvhen God of Craft snickered and jested like some teenager while the Goddess of the Hunt derided back a saying on being older. Being lifted up changed his mind away as he turned around to the two brothers of gods.
"This may be confusing to you, child, but our course of action requires you to pay attention," Falon'din said without brevity, dropping Piven to a seat.
"Oh come now brother, there's no need to be so impatient," Dirthamen said, crossing his arms. "You cannot expect someone so young to understand thousands of years within a month."
"Only because your explanation was not enough... brother," Falon'din replied back with a sneer. "Even a human would understand as something so simple. Perhaps it's best if you go on ahead while I explain."
"And perhaps it would be best if you stick to the plan. You wouldn't want to upset Elgar'nan now, would you?"
The feeling of confusion suddenly replaced itself in Piven with draining of himself. His body aching, as if shrinking beneath the auras the Elvhen gods released. Annoyance perhaps from the conversation but all Piven could feel was a heat of overwhelming power. Coming to a head then vanishing just as fast, leaving Piven with the sounds of a staff stepping further away.
"Then make it quick, brother," Falon'din exclaimed from a distance.
"You know me," Dirthamen muttered. "Now then, as I was saying… "
"W-wait, hold on," Piven reached out with both hands. "This is… can't you slow down? I don't-"
"We'll speak as we go. There isnt much time."
The god of knowledge levitated Piven with but a mere finger, leaving the young Dalish to float beside as Dirthamen walked toward the maze. Piven resisted, shielding away from getting closer to the dangerous pit.
"As I said before, child, there's no need to be afraid," Dirthamen answered in a soothing voice.
The Dalish's eyes opened with reluctance, widening to a ray of glistening halls of books. Upon mounds and mounds of scrolls and charts littered on the ground. The amount of knowledge they must have possessed, he couldn't possibly read not even half.
"A library?" Piven said.
"What your eyes perceive," Dirthamen answered, looking on ahead as he continued. "It is, however, an illusion. If you touched those any those papers, you'd be incinerated in seconds."
"What?" Piven exclaimed, huddling his body close. "Why would it do that?"
"Because this section of the Fade is a trap," Dirthamen began to explain. "When that magister placed the orb in the pedestal, his human blood tainted it. Thus he activated a trap we had put in place, trapping all within the room to section of the Fade we still controlled. To teach intruders a lesson."
"But we didn't mean to intrude, we were trying to stop Vel."
"Don't you think I know that," Dirthamen snapped. "Why else would we be in a hurry?"
The young Dalish reeled from the sudden anger that formed. And Dirthamen seemed to notice as well as his brows relaxed and shook his head away.
Dirthamen sighed. "I am not quick to anger but you must understand, we are running out of time," he said.
Piven plopped down to his feet again, higher up above the Elvhen god. With a wave, his staff conjured out a bow that flew straight into Piven. The Dalish caught it with instinct he didn't realize he had.
"What's this?" Piven asked, treading a finger over the bow.
It looked exactly like his bow. Simple and carven from his own hands, engraved with the names of his father and Laya. A reminder of what he fought for. Yet…
"I have manifested it here to deal with that filth you know as a magister," Dirthamen stood before on air like it was ground. "It has been imbued from us all to put him down for good. Doing so should break the trap, returning the rest back into the physical world."
A point raised in Piven's mind when his breath stopped short of allowing the words. He hunched over with a sigh then up again to a soft nod from Dirthamen. He didn't need an explanation. He needed to trust, trust what the gods are planning are for the good of the people.
"Shit."
Marcus breathed out a long sigh. Floating rocks, green ooze, green sky. The Fade but something was off. He could actually feel his body. This was no dream.
"Nothing ever goes to plan, does it?" the Battlemage questioned as he dusted himself off. "Great job, huh Marcus. In the Fade, physically. I mean, might as well have charged in, riding on Selene. Probably would still be here."
A sultry voice chuckled. "My aren't you a cutie."
The Imperial Battlemage whipped around and without hesitation, ejected a stream of fire from his staff. A figure vanished before the spell incinerated its surroundings. Marcus raised out his arms. A barrage of fireballs battered around, pummeling everything with flames. Even the realm of the Fade could not resist as the imaginary walls gave way to ruined rubble of floating black rocks.
"Well now, this is quite interesting," the sultry voice permeated. "So much power from a mage, and a human no less. Are you sure you're not part elf?"
Marcus raised up a defensive aura, crackled flames enveloping him and his staff. Lobs of spirit energy fired all around, rapidly pelting against his cloak. Demons of wrath, pride, and terror rose up and fell from above. Roars and screeches surrounded the battlemage, flexing their power as they all charged at once. With a spin, Marcus planted his staff deep. A shimmering barrier of energy erected over, stopping every demon as they barreled in. Their screeches incinerated into ash in seconds. Terror seemed to strike the remaining demons as their attack paused. Slinking away, a force of some kind seemed to lift them all and flung them into the far corners of the sky as again the seductive voice laughed and giggled throughout.
"My oh my, aren't you just so powerful?" The voice said. "And so strong with magic, you've hardly given it you're all. Show me more."
"Enough!" Marcus declared with a puff of his chest. "I don't have time for this so just show yourself. You can't defeat me."
"Now why would I ever do that Battlemage?"
Above the voice materialized into a very near-naked voluptuous woman. She laid atop on her side, breasts bare and barely covered with beaded jewelry. Beautiful no doubt Marcus would think were it not for the scaly tail that rested over legs and purple flames flowing from a horned head.
"Oh do you like what you see?" the desire demon caressed its hand slowly down its figure. "I'm sure you have all these months, hiding away with no one to comfort."
Marcus paused in his attacks, fear striking him back down from the demon. The coy laugh emerged again as the desire demon looked him in the eyes.
"Don't act so surprised," the desire demon's voice materialized behind.
Marcus frantically swung around with his sweat ladened staff, raising it in defense. Yet the desire demon showed no worry, swaying without hesitation towards the battlemage.
"You know what this place is and who it belongs to," the demon said. "I'll give you a hint if you give me something."
The desire demon hands reached out as Marcus reacted back with a swing.
"Yes, like that!" the desire demon answered with high jubilation as it held the staff without effort. "I'm so glad the Evanuris gave you to me!"
Confusion struck over Marcus in a daze at the disbelief. "Impossible," he thought to himself as he exploded, releasing tiny explosions in waves.
Darkness surrounded him until single torch lit. Then another followed by another down a straight path, directing to a large mirror at the end. Marcus vigorously shook his head, trying to shake away what he saw.
"It's nothing to worry about. It's just an illusion," he said to himself as he engulfed his palm in flames. Or at least tried too as nothing happened. "A really strong one that makes my magic invisible. All right, so what is it you want?"
Marcus's question went unanswered; the mirror was the only thing that showed to him, shining bright white as snow. The battlemage gritted his teeth and pressed cautiously to the mirror. Yet an unnerving feeling boiled in his stomach, blind from his surroundings and no doubt part of the demon's plans. Something he began to deduce as he looked into the mirror.
"What… kind of nightmare is this?" Marcus asked.
Nightmare was the least of what he could describe seeing. Everyone from the expedition experienced the most unimaginable pain and horror inflicted on them. He saw Hawke losing in battle, watching his friends and family torn apart, butchered, and bodily horrors that Marcus had no word for. Over and over it happened, again and again. Varric constantly wailed about becoming his parents, Merrill watching as everything of the elvhen burned while the rest were tortured with other horrors that befell them. Nivia, spit upon and tortured by magisters. But what unnerved him the most was not what happened to them. It was their faces, grins from edge to edge as they laughed without pause and with tears streaming down their face. Everyone suffering this endlessly without…
"Wait," Marcus said, frantically turning his head. "Where's… Where's Piven?"
Marcus's challenge echoed without a response. In a mere instant, Marcus swung towards the mirror, shattering it to dust. The darkness still remained however the battlemage still had a trick up his sleeve. His staff planted firmly in his grasp as he spoke an incantation.
"Bormahu, hon me. Bolaav me fin mulaag wah al daar sah!"
A brilliant aura of white flames engulfed the battlemage as he repeated the incantation. Every second it burned brighter and hotter as the void rumbled from the power. Then it began to burn away like paper, singing to ashes and revealing back to the familiar green sky. Through it, Marcus labored as the flames soon turned on him. His skin singed and blackened to soot, hair burned into flames. It consumed and melted his clothes but Marcus remained adamant as it came to his flesh. With a swift move, the battlemage exploded out and tore it all away. A scream of agonizing pain followed out as the green Fade sky returned to rocky platforms floating in their void.
"You impudent mortal," a deep grovel voice echoed over. "You will suffer and lie in an agony of your dreams. Break into nothing, only to be brought back and become a drooling fool over and over for eternity!"
Stone tendrils burst over and wrapped over the charred battlemage, bringing him to his sharp rocks further bled his weakened skin of blood, whitening the flesh. All while the grovel voice laughed at the agony it caused. For a few minutes, it did.
The laugh broke down into a low growl. "What… is this?" the voice bellowed ever more deeply and close to Marcus. "You should be writhing in an eternal torture of pain and suffering, begging for death-"
"It's not real."
The voice of Marcus echoed back with rival force, weakening the stone ropes. His ashen legs slowly stood even as the crimson liquid ran down. As if the pain wasn't even a feeling for the battlemage, and the shadow over his eyes glowed brightly with the embers of Akatosh's light.
"This is an illusion," he broke, exploding in a light. A puff of flame burst out, renewing the battlemage like a phoenix reborn. As if nothing happened, he once again stood tall and planted his staff. "The Fade reacts to what is around us and shapes everything. My emotions, my spirit, it, and everyone else's is what makes this place. And while I can't change everything here, I at least know that nothing here can harm me!"
"You're a Dreamwalker, aren't you?" the desire demon screeched as it materialized again, nails whipped out like claws.
"You'd like to know more about me, wouldn't you?" Marcus answered without looking back. "Yet I'm not the only one here that hides more about themselves, aren't I? Nightmare."
With one sullen look, Marcus turned to the desire demon. Surprise took hold of its face for a few seconds. Then a cackling laugh came forth, getting deeper with every second as Marcus stood his ground to the black smoke that concealed the demon's curves. Its form changed shape, morphing every aspect into a shadowy figure. Emerging forth, a tiny trip in Marcus's feet came to abound to what was his own Emperor, clad in his pristine steel armor.
"It's no wonder you fear this man," spoke the fake Emperor, slightly unnerving Marcus as it sounded as his Emperor. "Even in this form I take, I can sense it exudes power. Power that men only dare to dream about. The nightmares this Dragonborn must have caused."
"Don't you dare take his form," Marcus flared in a raging aura.
Nightmare cackled. "Because I am unworthy?" it replied with a further chuckle. "Yet you're the one trapped here, failing your mission. What would he think, what would your family think?"
"Be quiet," Marcus gritted as he swung out an arc of magic.
It phased through Nightmare as it morphed again into a clouded mass, spinning away to a rock that overlooked. Emerging this time as the grandmaster of Blades. "Perhaps she will take your place, deposing you and your precious ideals into the void?" Nightmare spoke in Nilssa's voice. "Leaving you to rot as you watch your Empire become a haven of terror and submission."
Marcus's teeth grinded with a fury that it echoed. His mind was overcome with anger as he looked upon Nightmare's form, seeping out magic from every pore. His hand raised high up, readied to unleash forth his arsenal of spells.
"Enough, Marcus."
The battlemage's arm stopped on a dime, grasped in a tight clench. The familiar brutal pain brought him out of his rage and a squeal he sword would not happen again.
"Aw, dammit Selene," Marcus pulled away with a pout as he vigorously rubbed his wrist. "Do you always have to show up at the worst possible time?"
"Do you always have to display such lowly male aggression, especially over that little gnat?" Selene countered, pointing with her flaming sword. "Just watch."
A flurry of mini fireballs blasted from Selene's sword to Nightmare, leaving Marcus flabbergasted as the Golden Saint charged forth without hesitation. Not because she did so but the eagerness as he saw her dance away to a fight with Nightmare, now transformed into a gigantic spider. And as he watched, there was only one thing that his mind kept standing on; why?
Why, why was he… so hesitant? About everything that's happened? The artifacts, the war, it would have been done had he not tarried so long with Hawke and rest. He wouldn't be here, trapped in an Evanuris illusion, he-
"Shit," Marcus muttered beneath the crashing sounds of what was presumably a spectacular fight between Selene and Nightmare.
The demon, he hated to admit, was right in a way. He was so engrossed in his findings and working with the Inquisition that he nearly forgot the mission. And that creeping feeling of failure gnawed at him as a hidden shadow, lurking behind his every doubt and hesitation.
A rumble suddenly rocked him out from introspection, his senses driving the battlemage to dodge as a crashing object nearly plopped on him. Selene's battered body left a scorched mark before one of the long legs of Nightmare impaled straight through.
"Enough!" Nightmare yelled as it towered over Marcus, tossing Selene away. "Die and watch your friends suffer in eternity!"
"No," Marcus spoke softly.
Filling himself again with Akatosh's blessing and Magnus's, Marcus swallowed his breath and closed his eyes. And with one exhale, he slowly opened to a large leg of Nightmare coming towards him at a snail's pace. Its hard beige scaly legs full of fur and giant maggots converged with a slimy green goo that floated behind. Above, Selene's broken body flying off and changing into a golden mist, returning back to Oblivion.
"No more," he breathed, clasping over his staff. "I won't hesitate ANY MORE!"
A blinding light of orange crimson heat flashed in an instant. A bright column erected high into the sky, melding into a gigantic sword. Impaled straight through the Nightmare as screeched with a gutting scream. It only continued further as the battlemage pulled his staff back, slicing down the middle like a banana peel. Nightmare collapsed, its two sides landing around Marcus, displaying innards evenly cauterized like nicely cut meat.
Marcus was left panting, nearly falling over were it not for his staff. Sweat he imagined would be all over him were he back in Thedas, prompting it to actually commence to wash over his eyes.
"Okay, maybe a bit much," he commented as he wicked the substance away. "But you get the point."
It was amazing really. That a demon would lead him to a heavy introspection on himself was nothing short of weird. The giant sword however was… stop, you're doing it again Marcus. Just focus on getting out of here and stopping Vel. Then it's back to the mission.
A shimmer caught Marcus's eye and he turned to Nightmare's… corpse if you could call it. Melting into a black pudge, slinking to retreat.
"But first," Marcus bemused, putting out his palm in a purple glow.
The battlemage brought down his foot on the pudge, stopping it in place. Raising it out, a soul trap blasted over, eliciting a grunt from Nightmare.
"What are you doing?" Nightmare screeched. "What is… happening to… m-me?"
The demon roared as its body streamed up into purple energy, pitching ever higher as it flowed entirely towards Marcus. Its defiance was in vain as it was wholly consumed into the black soul gem Marcus possessed. Bouncing full of energy within his hand, little roars cursing out every insult in existence.
"Lee...t me… out of… here… you, argh!"
Nightmare squealed beneath Marcus's hand as it squeezed tightly on the black soul gem.
"Shut up and listen," Marcus glared at the gem. "You're going to release my friends and tell us how to get out of this place, got it?"
"Why would I…?"
A high screech emerged as the gem cracked under the pressure of Marcus.
"I can't kill you but I sure as hell can make you suffer," Marcus declared. "Just one summon and you can spend eternity in the Shivering Isles and you'll see what a nightmare is really like. Now release them."
Nightmare cackled with joyous sound, bouts of shrieking interrupting between as Marcus increased the pressure. "You're bluffing," the demon said with a defiant laugh.
"I warned you," Marcus said.
Selene summoned once again. Anger strewn across her brows as she came ready, brandishing her sword. Then confused as she looked around then turning to a giddy laugh.
"Oh this is just hilarious," Selene barely strung her sentence from the laughs that spilled from her chest.
"I'll think you'll like it even more Selene," Marcus handed out towards her. "I'm sure your Lord will be delighted to have such a unique guest at his palace."
A soft bitten smile bit across Selene's lips. A smile and nod she presented back, taking the trapped demon with her to the Shivering Isles. A brief moment of respite came to Marcus. Casually waiting for Selene's return, he counted out. "Three… two… one…"
As quickly as she left, Selene reappeared with a hop and skip, signally that all seemed to go well.
"My lord thanks you, Battlemage Marcus," Selene presented with a bow. "It was the most pleasant thing that ever happened, more so than what that Emperor of yours did."
"Battlemage, huh? Pretty sure the only time you called me that was when I first summoned you. Remember, back at the academy?"
Selene rose to meet out her gaze. Her smile invited a bit of blush from Marcus, chuckling with a nervous smile. "Selene, what are you-" The battlemage couldn't finish, reeling back from a strike of a hand across his cheek.
"Hey! Ow!" relented Marcus, tendering to his cheek.
"That's for letting me die," Selene cried as she tossed back Nightmare, leaving Marcus a tinge of annoyance. Especially as she departed flashing her middle finger.
"Real mature, Selene," he yelled out while she phased back home. "Jeez, you're just so-"
"Agonizing."
"Well, more annoying than-"
"MADNESS!" Nightmare despaired, gem shivering. "ALL AROUND I- I-"
"Became mad?" smirked Marcus.
"How- how can you-"
"I can't, and neither can you," Marcus stated factly. "Because in the grand scheme of everything, you're nothing compared to the Princes."
"You… you…"
"Now unless you feel like spending more time with the Mad Prince, you'll do as I said. Now."
A grumble of compliance riddled from the gem. The battlemage's ear perked at the furloughing of wind that gusted over his robes. Stone beneath stone crumbled by block, fading like a mirage as the entirety of the Fade warped and bent around. Increasing at the pace, Marcus shielded away from the aura. And when he opened, his eyes opened with relief.
He cried out to Hawke, Varric, Merrill, and Nivia; the four laid unconscious along with several others of the expedition. Moments of eerie silence passed when a plethora of coughs emerged.
"I've got you." Marcus knelt down and held up Hawke, the champion still virulent with coughs but managed to raise a hand.
"I'm… I'm... fine," Hawke answered beneath coughs that began to shorten. The Champion took a moment to hold in his breath and quickly turned his eyes to his companions. "Merrill, Varric."
The elf and dwarf subsided their coughs but from a glance, Marcus could see the terror that still haunted their sullen faces. Still, they fared well, considering the others were curled and trembling as they repeated little rambling of words.
"That was…" Merrill breathed before collapsing in Hawke's arms. "I can't even say what it was. Garret, I didn't mean those things. I-"
A tight embrace from the Champion silenced the frantic apology. The trembles in Merrill allayed and she responded in kind, breathing an easy sigh of relief of her boyfriend's trust.
"It's not your fault," Hawke said. "It was Nightmare's."
Merrill looked up to Hawke with a raised brow as Varric swiftly walked by. "The demon we fought with the Inquisitor in the Fade," Varric answered. "If there's one demon I couldn't forget, that was it."
"Varric, you-"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Hotshot," Varric interrupted the battlemage with a raised palm. "Scarred for life twice but I'm good. Nivia, are you..."
"Please… I don't want to talk about," the young Tevene mage curled away from Varric's reach. "Just… I don't want to be in the Fade anymore."
"Are we in the Fade again?" Varric asked.
Marcus confirmed Varric's suspicions, recounting to the group what has transpired and the business with Nightmare. And when pressed on the demon itself, Marcus simply said he defeated the being and drove it off. Luckily, the horrors Nightmare inflicted were enough that the group was still not fully aware. Enough to not notice the battlemage tossing the black soul gem into an infinite green abyss, the last screams from Nightmare only a whisper as it disappeared.
"So…" Nivia stuttered as she slowly stood, arms wrapped close. "We're in the Fade? Like… actually here? Is that why the demon was so strong?"
"That can't be though," Hawke countered. "Last time Varric and I were in the Fade physically, Nightmare couldn't do this. All he did was send minions."
"Because this is one of the domains of the Evanuris," Marcus stated.
The mention of the Evanuris chilled the group's faces; As if the name struck fear like a children's fairytale.
"So then," Hawke pressed on his forehead to gather the information. "This is an Evanuris trap of some sort?"
"Is that a problem?" Marcus asked.
"You mean other than the fact that seven powerful elves, probably as powerful as Solas, might be here?" Merrill asked as she tightened her body.
"Perhaps we should deal with a more immediate problem about Piven being missing?" Marcus exclaimed, echoing his voice.
The group exchanged looks around, looking for the young Dalish. And upon confirming his words, they quickly steeled themselves with a determined look. Hawke carried forward from the group, placing a hand on Marcus's shoulder.
"Then let's find him."
Far off in another corner of this brazen section of the Fade, the young Piven trekked as best his tracker abilities allowed him. Jumping from floating platform to floating platform and a few near misses of a bottomless sky, he made his way to what seemed to be a temple of sorts below.
It was large and pointy, towers that seemed as if to spiral off into infinity. Each of them with beautiful color glass windows, embedded with each one of the Evanuris. Their eyes trended downward to an enormous stair that followed down to a long path. Columns and statues of the Evanuris lined along, displaying chiseling features of muscle and beauty. Sparkles of energy floating around as imbibed by the Fade itself to dance and further enhance. It was art brought to life, an example of elvhen creation in its prime. Thus it came as no surprise as they were immediately destroyed by a passing group of souls hellbent on its destruction.
The young Dalish elf quickly lowered to catch a better view of the perpetrator as none other than Magister Vel, blasting every statue and structure along with intense rage. Even his own group of men that followed cowered, staying away and nearly falling off the edge of the floating structure. Save for two brave souls, one of which ran to his side.
"Magister Vel, calm down. Destroying everything in sight is not going to-"
"Not going to what?!"
Tendrils of blood tore from Vel's back, waving out like spider legs. They stopped short of stabbing the woman as she stood stunned at the monstrous face of the Magister. Blood just poured and slimed over his skin from head to toe. His hands and feet were gigantic, blood constantly flowing over. Half his face was completely covered in blood, rotten away of muscle and skin with his teeth and eyes exposed.
"Help gain ultimate power," answered the woman, Vesnia as she regained composure. "We don't need to attract any more demons now, do we?"
"That's what you all are for!" Vel vehemently exclaimed, his voice gurgling from the excess of blood. "And yet, you two are the only ones remotely capable of that!"
Vesnia jumped back from the flare of power Vel unleashed as the magister flicked his arm out. A massive blood fist held out and crushed the cowering men. Chunks of flesh and blood were all that was left and then absorbed into Vel as a meal.
"Now stop wasting my time and open the temple for me! Argh!"
Vel reeled over his stomach, dropping to his knees and hands that barely kept their shape. A hoarse growl groveled as the blood worsened his features. Spikes grew from his back, on his hands, the top of his head; breathing slowed to that of a rabid dog.
A drop of sweat popped on the two lower-ranked magisters. The two exchanged a quick glance and nodded. The two held out their palms and sent out their energy. The combination of magic washed over Vel in a yellow light so bright that even Piven from afar had to shield away. In a flash, Vel was back to his old self for the most part though blood still oozed over his limbs.
"I'm afraid it won't last long," Vesnia said. "Cassius's magic and mine won't be able to heal the effect again so-"
"Just- go- and- get- it," Vel brokenly interrupted, leaning against the one intact statue.
Vesnia bowed without hesitation and ran up with Cassius into the temple, leaving Vel all alone to stew in silence.
The perfect shot laid bare for Piven. But rather than taking it, all the young boy could do was pant anxiously as held his bow tight. The magnitude of it became so loud, he could only cover his mouth lest Vel hears him.
"Come on, Piven, get a hold of yourself," Piven whispered between breaths. "You have to- have to… dammit."
"Calm."
Piven's body suddenly relaxed upon the word. He looked around, wondering where it came from. Nothing he could see… until a strange tiny hand was grabbing his lips. He cried out in surprise, thrashing his head around. Yet when the hand wouldn't let go, he reached towards it; it broke away, held up a finger, and made a shushing sound.
Piven was left stunned, staring bewildered. "What- what are you?" he asked.
The tiny hand made a gesture to point to the bow in Piven's hand. Piven said nothing; he merely followed with his eyes to gleam in awe. The tiny hand morphed into a little ball of light, bouncing around the bow.
"What are you?" Piven softly asked.
The tiny ball leaped into the bow, leaving Piven with a confused look. The boy breathed in relief at the sight of several more little balls emerging from the bow. Floating around him like little fairies and upon pressing his ears closer, a sound emerged from them.
"Calm."
"Safe."
"Here to help."
Piven let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you… sent by Dirthamen? Or… one of the others?"
The little balls all answered with a soft yes and immediately all pressed on his arms. Piven's eyes darted on them as they flew up then down again on his arms.
Piven bit his cheek in frustration at their manner. "You want me to follow you up?" he asked, tongue in cheek.
The little balls' continued actions confirmed the Dalish's query and he peered up again. Eyes widened in disbelief to where Vel was standing because he wasn't there.
"Where did he-"
"Roll."
A gasp escaped from Piven. He rolled back in the nick of time as to where we stood was destroyed. Massive blood tentacles burrowed out and crashed down. Piven, unable to keep balance, lost hold of his bow. He grabbed forth but his path was blocked as more and more of the tentacles blocked his path. Back and back he stepped until he tripped. The end of a tentacle pierced towards him and Piven shielded away from the blow. Yet instead he felt not a pierce but a tight squeeze, lifting him high. The other tentacles all slinked and melded together. It was a grotesque mixture of blood that bubbled and popped. Emerging forth came out Magister Vel, completely covered in the substance as if he were made of blood.
"I knew such a filthy stenchy was so familiar," Vel hoarse with a maw of slimy bloody fangs. "And I was right. A pathetic little elf playing hero."
Piven merely could grunt under the pressure of the tentacle that brought him closer to Vel. The magister's hand grabbed Piven by the neck.
"Your kind will never learn, will they?" Vel pierced, drawing blood with a long claw over Piven's cheek. "You will never win. And once I've gained the Fea Opus, the first thing I will do is kill every elf and ensure nothing of your kind remains. Starting with this bow- argh!"
The entirety of Vel screeched in agony as the bow disintegrated his mass upon contact, releasing both it and Piven.
The young Dalish wasted no time and leaped toward the bow. He slammed the bow down, burning more agony in Vel. The blood mass curried and morphed away, summoning a gigantic fist. It knocked Piven aside, flying him off the platform. Arms and legs wailed around as he fell towards the temple structure. He shielded his eyes but found a force knocking him hard into his gut. Breaths escaped him as he bounced around until finally landing against the one statue of Dirthamen.
"Ow," Piven groaned as he stood up to see another fisting slamming down.
The fist however could not reach the young elf, instead, slamming against a yellow barrier. Spikes and fire were added to the fist and still, it could not breach the barrier with its raging fury.
Beneath all the rage, it clicked to Piven as he looked to his bow. The ball of lights kept emerging from the weapon, strengthening the barrier beneath blow after blow. One flowed into his hand and changed into an arrow of light. Its light alone made the Magister cower from its brightness.
"Thank you gods!" Piven let loose.
The arrow ripped through Vel as if he were nothing. Disintegration and steam agonized over the man. Turning into a blob of blood, he burrowed under the structure and swallowed all. Rocks and debris spewed forth at crazy velocity. Piven ran and turned, his barrier keeping bay the small rocks. Arrows he shot off in retaliation though none could hit. Wise to his weapon, Vel threw up chunks of rocks and broken statues as shielding. And the more he had to counter.
Piven's dodging and peppering could only last for long. After firing an arrow off, he gasped as a large boulder flung straight towards him. At the last second, he rolled. But it was useless as a wall of blood spikes emerged in his path. Bow drawn, it was barely a blink before the boulder crashed down; breaking apart and settled into a cloud of dust.
It dispersed from the light of the bow shining in defiance. The barrier held but flickered. Immediately it collapsed into nothing, leaving Piven in a daze. Without hesitation, the blood goop encased and dragged the Dalish in. Choking and writhing, Piven could not resist without his bow. The bloody substance stabbed into his gut, tearing at his armor. He screamed, retching his head up from the gooey blood. His eyes flared in horror as the blood pulled back from his stomach, leaving it the only thing bare.
A towering mass of blood emerged, a long column stretching high over Piven. The boy's eyes pulsated with fear as it emerged with the face of Vel, ever a villainous cackle emerging forthwith as he morphed a long spike.
"BEGONE!"
The spike struck fast as lightning. Potent screams mustered from Piven as they embedded deep in his chest. For a minute. Then several seconds. Then one until the scream died awkwardly down, leaving the Dalish to raise a brow in confusion. His eyes drifted slowly down and a gasp escaped. The spike had only pierced the very top layer of his skin, suspended in place. In fact, the entirety of the blob that was Vel was stuck in place, vibrating incessantly to regain movement.
"Well, look at you now, Vel…"
The monstrous Magister and young Dalish both turned with shock and relief respectively to another floating structure above. With a great big smile of heroism and bravery stood Hawke, twirling dagger in hand.
"A proper blood mage, aren't you? Ugly, crazy, even made of the stuff. What's next, long lost elvhen secrets?"
"Ahem," coughed Merrill as the Dalish blood mage held Vel in place.
"What? You're not ugly like him… I mean, he's still got that mustache," Hawke shrugged back, receiving a roll of eyes from Merrill. "And uh… Nivia, mind helping Merrill out a bit?"
"Well… I…" Nivia hesitated as she looked upon her former master.
"Y-you… You…. YOU!"
Before Vel could finish whatever hoarse rebuttal of slurs coming forth, a barrage of bombs and fireballs bombarded with explosive vigor. The mass of Vel relented under, freeing Vel, and leaped over towards the temple.
"You okay, Twitch?" A flaming trial landed by Piven, carrying Varric, Marcus, and the rest of the expedition. The dwarf extended a hand to the confused boy. "Varric? And you guys, what are you doing?" Piven stuttered.
"Saving you," Marcus answered nonchalantly while lobbing fireballs towards Vel. "Are you alright? Why are you fighting Vel alone?"
A shout of resistance bellowed from Vel before Piven could answer. His bloodied mass hulked high up before the steps of the temple, displaying out limbs, spikes, and all manner of weaponry of blood.
"I've had enough of you all," Vel wretched off steaming blood. "I am Vel, the most powerful mage in all of Thedas. I will not be denied!"
A mess of blood scattered high above, then quickly rocketed down over the entire area. Marcus and Merrill both slammed their staffs, shielding their respective groups. To their shock, it passed through effortlessly.
"Move!" Marcus cried as he tackled Varric and Piven away.
Torrential rain of blood blasted the ground, splashing against some of the Inquisition expedition. Steam fumigated off the substance and a cry of agony broke on the covered members. The blood burned through flesh and bone, melting those covered into a puddle. Some cowered in fear with some reaching for their melting comrades.
"Don't touch them," Marcus yelled to no avail.
Those that reached found themselves wrapped by the blood as well, spreading and melting their bodies. Horror still continued as within the puddle, the blood bubbled and rose in the shape of the fallen members and warriors. Faces wrought with bits of teeth and flesh yet their bodies moved as if alive.
A flaming wall erected forth from Marcus. "Everybody back," he said as he turned upwards. "Hawke! Vel!"
The Champion turned to see a piece of slimy blood racing towards the temple entrance. "Merrill," he signaled, taking Nivia by hand.
"No, Hawke, waaiit…" the young Teven screamed, leaping down with Hawke towards the escaping slime.
Merrill followed behind, locking the slime in place. Her arms strained against the pushback, veins popping in relation to the struggle.
"Nivia, if you won't blood magic, mind using your ice," Hawke relayed as he surged forward.
Nivia nervously shook her head and reached out. A jet of frost streamed out. Chilling the blood, it cracked and grunted against Hawke's daggers.
"Pest!" the blood exclaimed, morphing into Vel.
Vel countered with Hawke in a battle of might. Jabs of spiked fists struck forth but Hawke easily dodged. Every jab, the Champion stabbed; every slice, he pummeled with a Great Dragon's rage. Even with a liquid body, Vel strained under every blow.
"NO!" he graveled hoarsely, his body fizzling apart. "NO!"
A force of brilliance echoed from Vel's shout, pushing Hawke down. Merrill fell from the blowback, bleeding from the nose. Nivia released her staff; she couldn't believe it. Her air then collapsed inside, blue in the face from Vel's punch. She and Hawke, overpowered, stunned as blood tendrils grabbed them by the necks. The young Teven shuddered in fear, Hawke exerted with sweat. But their strength waned with every struggle, slowing to crawl. This couldn't be it. Vel raised up with a cackling smile and was struck hard by a torrent of fire.
Marcus leaped in front. "Time to get up," he said, trained on Vel. With a free hand, he extended a couple of red orbs to his fallen friends and reinvigorated them.
"Marcus, we can't keep going like this," Hawke said, throwing his dagger at a blood warrior that scampered over.
"No shit," Marcus gritted his teeth, concentrating on a torrent of flames against an ever-increasing resistant Vel. "He was going into the temple, maybe his power is coming from there."
"Got it," Hawke nodded. "Merrill, are you still with us?"
A thumbs up emerged from the Champion's Dalish paramour, bleeding from the nose yet still determined.
"Get a handle on those blood creatures," Hawke called out. "Nivia, come on!"
Nivia stammered with a fluster. "What about Vel?"
"You'll be fine," Marcus stressed. "We'll handle Vel out here. Hurry and get whatever's giving Vel this power."
Nivia had barely a second, watching as Marcus barreled into a flaming twister and carried Vel off towards another platform.
"Let's go," Hawke thrust forth.
Nivia followed behind, trying to shake the doubts away as she went.
Some doubts had still lingered in Nivia's mind. While staying close by Hawke in the dark ancient Elvhen temple, the sounds of battle still radiated as though she were still there. The screams of those being felled, she could still picture in her head.
"Okay we're- oof," Hawke turned to Nivia grunting into his back. "Something the matter?"
Nivia flustered, stepping back. "No, it's-" She began to stammer until Hawke's eyes met her concern. Her body was withheld for a moment but it felt… wrong for some reason. "I'm… I'm just having trouble keeping up with all that's happening now. I mean Andraste's sake, we're in the Fade! A place where the first magisters came and destroyed the world. And we're fighting another one who might possibly unleash something worse? And you're not freaking out."
"Well, I was here before," Hawke smiled.
"See what I mean?" Nivia extended out her arms to further make a point. "How can you deal with all this?"
The smile from Hawke soured to one of dreariness. "Honestly… I couldn't," he said, stunning Nivia at his boldness. "I lost my family to blood mages, fought Qunari and an ancient darkspawn magister. It wasn't for Varric, Merrill, and all my other friends… I would have lost it. They help me cope with it."
"You're just saying that?"
"It's true," Hawke crossed his arms. "Why do you think I'm making jokes all the time?"
"Besides being annoying?" Nivia asked.
Hawke chuckled. "Maybe a bit. But it also helps that I don't go insane from all the things that have happened."
"Wouldn't it be better to work through it?"
"Yes, that would be better."
Nivia tightly gripped her icy staff at the sudden voice. Hawke had the same idea as he swung around and threw a dagger, its sharp edge swishing into the dark. A presumptuous move yet in a dark temple, it seemed appropriate. Her mind steeled, following behind the knife with a blast of ice shards.
"Easy now! There's no need for violence!" said the stranger's voice. "I'm not an enemy!"
It seemed unlikely. Nivia readied forth ice in her palm, enough to barrage any defense. Her breaths winded at the slow steps that echoed closer. No… no, she couldn't be scared. Hawke was prepared, his face steeled. He showed no fear, neither would she. Her ice raised high, circling fast, prepared to fire off.
"Hawke, it's us! Vesnia and Cassius!"
Nivia became confused at the words and suddenly, stunned as Hawke grabbed her staff. What for, she thought, until two mages came forth. Wearing Magister robes with… the mark of the Lucerni sash?
"The Lucerni?" Nivia exclaimed. "What is this? What's going on? Hawke?"
Hawke made no response, keeping his eyes trained on the mages as they approached. She spotted that a dagger was still drawn behind and she resolved to keep a tight grip as well.
"We freed you, remember?" the woman held out her hand. "Vesnia Fimbria, magister of the Lucerni, and my partner, Cassius Roth."
"A bit actually, it happened so fast," Hawke returned the handshake.
Nivia let out a soft breath, interjecting in. "I'm sorry but… what the hell?" the young Teven stated. "What are Lucerni doing here of all places and working for Vel no less?"
"Oh, I am sorry um…" Vesnia paused, taking in her features. "You're Vel's apprentice? Nivia?"
"Former apprentice and you didn't answer my question," Nivia pushed.
"Right, sorry," Vesnia coughed briefly as she began to explain. "Well, as I explained to Hawke, the Lucerni sent us to see what was happening with the expedition. You were all gone for a while and we learned you were all captured. So we managed to infiltrate his group and pretend we wanted to work for him while we worked on freeing you."
At that, Nivia frowned. "Varric and I were hiding in the forest for weeks to rescue everybody. Why didn't you help us?"
"Easy now, Nivia," Hawke pushed between her and Vesnia, which only ticked Nivia off as she pushed him aside.
"Unfortunately, I presumed you were dead," Vesnia admitted with sullen eyes. "And even if I did find you afterward, I certainly couldn't have approached. Your former master has been… losing himself further into madness. Being absent for too long after infiltrating might have aroused too much suspicion. He could have killed his prisoners."
"The fact he's a creature made of blood and practically immune to damage, didn't tip you off?" Hawke asked.
"Yes, I've noticed," Vesnia replied coolly as the sound of marble being cracked and destroyed vibrated around them. "And I presume that might be that 'battlemage' I briefly heard fighting with the crazy Magister."
"Marcus, he's one of us," Hawke answered, peaking at the entrance. "Actually, that reminds me, did you free him?"
Another vibrating pummel shook though this time, it shook the ground and Nivia nearly lost her footing. A crash of fallen stone suddenly fell near them and she teetered back, holding Hawke tight.
Having been quiet for so long, a grunt emerged from Cassius. "Perhaps it'd be best if we hurried to our objective and explain on the way before they destroy the temple."
"Yes, you're right," Vesnia said. "If you would follow us, we must hurry."
"Hurry towards what?" Hawke frowned in confusion.
"The Fea Opus," Vesnia shrugged.
She received a blank stare from Nivia.
"Fea Opus?" she hurried in pace at that familiar word. "It's here?"
"No, not exactly, it's…" Vesnia bit on her finger for a pause, looking back at Nivia with unreadable eyes. "Cassius, would you?"
"The Fea Opus is an item that both exists within the Fade and the real world," Cassius explained straight away. "From his collection of texts and artifacts from all over Thedas, Vel discerned the book as a powerful artifact created by the Elvhen gods. But to safeguard it, they split the book between two worlds. It's most likely why when he used that orb of his, it sent us here."
The two Lucerni stopped at a large double door of pure metal. It looked out of place with its giant chains, glowing words that Nivia could only presume were in elvhen. What stood out the most to her however were the several ten or so hand rests lined in a row, each with various pictures of animals, objects, and… a potato.
"Uh…?" Nivia hesitated.
"A test of some sort," Cassius said in brevity. "To determine whether those are worthy enough to obtain a part of the Fea Opus. Or so I could discern from the writing."
"So an elf then," Nivia answered with the obvious solution.
"You would think so but..."
Nivia raised a brow as Vesnia pointed towards her feet. She turned her head and let out a very short shriek, jumping from the skeleton hand that fell from the massive pile of bones.
"Huh, I wondered where those came from," Hawke said without a hint of disgust. "Well, I hope you've figured it out because it seems like we're running out of time."
The Champion's word rang true to Nivia. The ground's subtle vibrations were now starting to intensify; the feeling in her feet notwithstanding.
"Why do you think you're here?" Cassius glared at Hawke. "With your Great Dragon blood, you merely press your hands on the 4th and 6th-"
"Cassius!" Vesnia invoked the Lucerni's name with a fury of a storm, taking Nivia aback.
For what reason did she display a wave of sudden anger for…? Wait… how did they know about Hawke's new ability? Suspicion grew on her face. Slowly, she gripped her staff and hardened her gaze on the Lucerni. Then it hit as the unreadable eyes of Cassius shied away like she would when she was nervous.
She frantically pulled her staff out, blasting an ice wave. Her arm shot in pain, screaming to the shattering of bone and flooding of tears. Instead, her attack misfired, striking Hawke backward in a skid.
"Let her go," he screamed.
Nivia could barely keep her eyes and mind focused as her arm flared with such intense heat though if it were on fire. But her being unable to move and the increasing pressure on her body made her well aware that Hawke could not free her.
"It is unfortunate it has to come to this," Vesnia sighed.
A cold hand pressed over Nivia's mouth. She could do nothing but hang and look at Hawke. The Champion's dagger was frozen midair by an orange glow disseminating from Cassius. Caught like cornered slaves.
"Now please," Vesnia directed to the door. "We don't have much time."
The battle outside was reaching a cumulative climax. Marcus and Vel battled at a draw, bouncing all around. The battlemage's magic pummeling the magister with all many fury, drains, and physical attacks. Yet no matter how much in pain, Vel kept going and his resistance only seemed to be growing. Down on the temple pathway was a different story. With Merrill's help, the expedition managed to cut down the blood warriors to a few. Even so, many members were lost, leaving just Piven, Varric, and two expedition scouts. Yet were it not for one young Dalish, they all might have perished. Astonished looks were all the others could give as Piven shot off with his arrows of light, destroying the blood rather than turning it into a puddle.
"On your left," he called to Varric, piercing through the last warrior.
"That bow is really something, Twitch," Varric praised. "Where did you find that anyway?"
Piven paused for an answer then pointed up. "Look out!" he said.
A flaming inferno crashed in the center of the temple walkway, knocking everyone to their feet. A swelter of heat radiated on their faces, causing sweating and closed eyes from the bright glare. The bloody pool of Vel groaned as Marcus stood over him, wreathed in fire. Merrill wasted no time in securing the magister in place. Massive energy of flames powered in Marcus's hands, burning bright in power. The group's victory was at hand.
"HOLD IT!"
Looks from turned to the temple, a large object flying up and landing in the stone with a thunderous crack. A burly man that caught the heroes' eyes as the one that attacked Marcus in the real world, now holding Nivia hostage in his arms.
That split second they all looked turned the tables. Tendrils burst and pierced Marcus, rendering the battlemage out. Trying to help, Merrill blasted with her own magic only to be paralyzed in an orange glow by Cassius. The mage stepped down candidly with Hawke paralyzed as well while Vesnia approached with a candor smile.
"Hold on," Piven drew his bow with Varric.
But with Marcus and the others all captive, all they could do was hold for an opening.
"It took you long enough," Vel chastised. His body began to reconstitute back to flesh, slowly draining Marcus to a pale vestige. "Now, I will finish-"
Vel froze as soon as his eyes turned to Vesnia. Him and even the heroes were struck by the glowing purple book that floated in the Lucerni woman's hand. If power was feeling, they were mesmerized by it. Even the others in the back could feel the air become heavier, their bones aching, and their resolve fleeting.
"I do indeed, Magister Vel," Vesnia smiled. "The prize you've been seeking."
Vel looked with further admonishment as the book filled his vision. His mouth opened, salivating at the power. The craving for it filled him to the brim of resolve and without hesitation, he leaped. Forgetting everything, he sprayed out in mass tendrils, knocking everyone back. His mass absorbed the book and swirled up into a towering figure of several stories made entirely of blood.
"IT'S MINE," Vel proclaimed in a deep droning voice as waves of green magic swirled around him. "THE POWER OF THE EVANURIS IS MINE TO COMMAND!"
His giant cackles of victory swelled in an aura expanding out. The Fade itself changed colors with each expansion. A pandemonium of magical energy crackled and whipped around, destroying all manner of platforms. Everyone was lifted high as gravity ceased to exist. A surging bolt bisected the temple in half. A mark of green energy ignited in the halves, exploding into a giant ball of debris that scattered into dust.
Vel surged with power, charging his gigantic hands of magic above. "WITNESS THE BIRTH OF YOUR NEW GOD!"
Charged at its zenith, his magic burst out in a gigantic beam. At breakneck speed, it barreled towards the heroes, breaking the air with a thunderous clap. Marcus steeled at the monstrous energy and exploded forth a bubble barrier, meeting on the beam. The beam clashed, cracking it in an instant. The battlemage roared, shunting off successive barriers. But to no avail, it cracked like a fragile vase. With all his energy, he extended all the magic he could. The beam pushed, breaking with every second. Then it stopped.
An act of mercy or trick? They were all perplexed at this sudden stop. Marcus released from exhaustion, releasing the barrier and allowing them to see what had happened.
Vel was writhing around, groaning with pain. Magical energy was pouring out of him like leaks from a barrel. He tried to regenerate, plugging the wounds but he only began to engorge bigger and bigger.
"I- I- I CANN'T… TOO- TOO MUUCH! NOOO- NOOO… I- I AM VEL, M-MASTER OF ALLLL!"
As he stood wretched in agony, the heroes were at a loss what to do. Any moment it seemed Vel would explode, taking them all with him. Yet with Marcus exhausted, they could do nothing but watch.
"Do it."
Piven gasped as the orbs of light whispered again to him. Several emerged with a glow so bright that the others but Piven had to shield away from. An arrow bright as the sun rested in his palm, chanting to him.
"Take the shot," it said, over and over.
The young Dalish drew the arrow in, pulling in with such strain that veins popped in his arms. He struggled to hold the bow as the arrow shook, swaying it to each side. His body wanted to give, to stop but he refused. He would not let everyone die.
A streak of light tunneled out, leaving a path of brilliance behind. The arrow pierced into Vel's chest and the expansion of magical energy ceased suddenly. All turned calm as Vel slowly turned to the arrow then back up towards Piven.
Teeth bared out of bloody fangs, raising for a guttural reply. Instead, rays of light shone out of his mouth and eyes, breaking out of his entirety.
"WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! THIS- NO- NOOO- I- CANNOT- DIE!"
In a final blow, the rays turned as bright as they could, consuming Vel in a blinding flash and the entire Fade turned to a white void.
Marcus awoke to a damp gray floor on his side, groaning at his head. The amount of magicka he had to expend against Vel; it was hard to believe the Fea Opus could grant such power. The Emperor was right to not want someone in Thedas to have that power.
The others all laid around him, still much in a daze. There were fewer expedition members but luckily none of Hawke's or his companions looked too injured. And then the- the other magisters!
Marcus rapidly rose, staff in hand, up the stairs to the altar. The orb was gone and the wall beyond had parted to a long large circular room. Hastening forth, he came upon a single altar surrounded in veil fire behind. One that was empty but what Marcus knew to be the Fea Opus.
"It's about time you awoke."
Marcus's eyes darkened. In a single stroke, the battlemage ducked, grabbing his opponent and holding a spectral dagger to the neck. "Nilssa!" The name seething from his lips as he fiercely held the woman hostage.
"I see that you're back to strength," Nilssa lightly chuckled.
Marcus would have pressed his dagger across his throat were it not for the sheathing of metal and magic that emerged from both sides. Karhtus and Do'jhan, Blades illusionist and a Dragon Potentate respectively.
"Though your mind could still use some work," Nilssa said with a dry smile.
"This was your doing, wasn't it?" Marcus demanded. "Letting Vel get the Fea Opus, almost killing me and the others. You jeopardized the entire mission."
"As in not retrieving the Fea Opus?" she responded with sarcasm as she brought out the book from behind. "As in this? And unlike you, I knew that the book was separated between two realms and that attempting to use half only overwhelms the soul."
That wasn't the point that mattered to Marcus. She was being reckless, endangered lives needlessly. Just to prove a point?
"Oh, don't be like that Marcus," Nilssa snided. "The mission is over. You can whine about my actions once we get to the Emperor."
Marcus was indignant at the response. A massive barrage of choice words churned in his mind when his ear bent to the hall outside of several boots and shoes running through.
"And now you've done it," Nilssa sighed as they all looked up to Hawke and the others stepping into the room, weapons drawn.
"Impatient much, Marcus," Hawke called with his signature sarcastic reply. "You do know there's only one way out of here, right?"
Nilssa smirked. "For once I must agree with a Thedosian. You are impatient Marcus and too quick to doubt yourself."
"Shut up," Marcus yelled, clenching his teeth.
"And angry as well," she replied. "If you were a bit more like Sorcil, I might have treated you better."
"Shut up, I said."
"Oh yes of course," Nilssa rolled her eyes as she glanced back up to Hawke's group. "All of you there, this man is not who he says he is. He is one of ours."
Marcus turned to glance at the group, trying his best not to look nervous. He had expected the truth to come out but not like this, seeing their faces. But he was surprised however to see that none of them wavered at Nilssa's words. Adamant to saving their 'friend'.
"Do we really look that dumb to you?" Piven questioned as he drew his bow.
"I've heard better lies from Daisy," Varric said.
"Yeah and I'm not a very good liar," Merrill commented as Nivia raised a brow at the statement.
"Really?" Nilssa shook her head slowly. "More evidence? Besides the fact that a Pahmar-raht and an illusionist are directing their weapons at you all rather than him. Marcus, please, let's end this charade."
Marcus took a long look at Nilssa. The Nord woman stared back with emotionless eyes, without a hint of remorse. She truly didn't care, not one bit if she had to kill them all. This… this wasn't what the Empire stood for, of ruthlessness and regard for others. And not how he'll do things.
Marcus tightened his grip and growled. "Give us the book, Imperial."
For the first time, Marcus witnessed a stunned expression from Nilssa. Her eyes widened and her mouth agape. He couldn't help but to smirk.
"So it's going to be like that then," she returned with a pensive glare. "Very well, Marcus."
A small crunch entered Marcus's ear followed by a blow of purple dust blinding his eyes. He yelled as his eyes burned and felt the dust enter into his nose. He began to cough virulently while the sound of a fight emerged of arrows, magic, and blades parrying each other.
"No, wait," Marcus coughed between words, pounding his chest to expel the dust.
"Marcus," he heard from Piven's voice, approaching close.
"Piven," Marcus coughed. "No, get out of here. Don't fight them."
"We have to get the Fea Opus," Piven reminded.
"No, you can't," Marcus grunted as he expelled the last of the coughs and rubbed out his eyes. "You have to-"
Upon clearing his vision, the young Dalish was staring wide-eyed at Marcus. Gawking at him almost.
"What?" he questioned.
The sounds of fighting suddenly died from his hearing. Marcus was shocked to see everyone staring at him like Piven. "What," he shrugged. "What are you all staring at?"
He swiveled back to Piven, who had now taken a few steps back. A frown emerged from the battlemage, wondering what the cause of concern was. Piven's finger pointed to his right shoulder. Following along, Marcus froze at what he saw; olive skin and the Imperial Dragon tattoo.
"You're 'friend's' true identity," Nilssa sneered from across. "Marcus Ebiri, Imperial Battlemage of the Dragon Empire."