We were a far more somber crowd the next day. Cullen and I were both reserved, a silent agreement not to discuss the night's events. I watched him as he and Cassandra talked in hushed tones ahead of us. Ellana walked beside me, but didn't try to make conversation and avoided my eyes. I tried to ignore her cries of "Meira" replaying in my mind each time I looked at her. Solas was speaking with Asaala as Varric listened in, the occasional chuckle escaping him. I thought about what Cullen had advised in going to the elven male, but I didn't feel comfortable doing so especially in front of all the others.
Suddenly, I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end and I froze in place.
"Meira?" Ellana questioned, nearly tripping over me as I stopped.
"Hush," I warned, scanning the trees around us.
"I feel it too," Cullen and Cassandra said in unison, scanning the trees before us as they unbuckled their shields.
The woods were silent. No animals to be heard, no wind, nothing. I drew Cullen's - my - dagger from its scabbard. The others followed suit, drawing weapons or staffs, but looked at us in confusion.
I heard the whistle shortly before the wet thud as an arrow embedded itself in my leg. I let out a grunt before stumbling backward at the force of the shot. I screamed and buckled to the ground when I felt the arrow tear into my muscle, the pain white-hot.
More whistles sounded as arrows flew, but they disintegrated before they could find their marks. Solas had summoned a magical barrier a split second too late to block the initial shot; the magic of the barrier burned the arrows away as they entered its sphere. The others surrounded me as I clutched my leg.
A group of templars burst from the trees, yelling as they charged. Cullen and Cassandra tried to shout that we were not apostates, but they wouldn't listen. As the templars refused to back down, Cullen and the other soldiers battled them; Ellana and her companions stayed close to my prone self on the ground. The crash of weapons and bursts of magic reached my ears despite the pain clouding my vision.
Ellana kneeled next to me, Solas needing to keep the barrier intact, "Tell me what to do."
I gasped at the pain, trying not to watch the blood leaking out of the wound or look at the shaft embedded in my leg.
"Take your belt off and wrap it around my thigh above the arrow shaft," I said through clenched teeth.
"Why can't I just use magic?" she asked.
"You may seal up the wound but not stop the bleeding. I could bleed out internally before we ever realized something was wrong if the arrowhead hit something major," I explained impatiently, "Just do what I tell you!"
Ellana did as I had instructed, her brow furrowed with worry.
"Now cinch the belt as tight as you possibly can and then tighter," I ground out as I pulled off a leather glove and bit down on it with my teeth, trying to prepare myself for the pain that was coming.
I screamed when she did this, the pain and pressure excruciating. Darkness threatened to veil my eyes as I panted heavily. Ellana shook me to keep me from losing consciousness. I could hear the others still fighting, but the noise of battle seemed to be growing quieter.
"N-Now, you have to remove the arrow," I directed.
Ellana didn't hesitate. Placing a firm hand on my leg before grasping the arrow's shaft, in a swift upward movement, she wrenched it free.
I blacked out at the pain.
...
I awoke to the others standing around me, Solas healing the wound as the rest stood guarding us. Dead templars were strewn around our group, but none of the seasoned warriors' eyes stopped watching the trees for more attackers. An intimidating group: templar, seeker, rogue, mercenary all standing at the head of a group of soldiers.
"A little faster with the barrier next time?" I joked to Solas, my throat dry.
"My apologies," Solas chuckled.
"Now that she's awake, we should move. Is she healed?" Cassandra asked Solas when the male straightened.
"Enough to move her, but she shouldn't put pressure on it until it's been healed completely," he advised, using magic to clean my blood off his hands, "The arrow went deep."
At that, Cullen buckled his shield across his chest before scooping me into his arms. The others surrounded us in a guarding formation, their eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. We set a quick pace, not daring to linger any longer than necessary.
...
Signs of battle began cropping up everywhere as we neared the post outside the Crossroads. Mages impaled on blades, riddled with arrows, or charred corpses. Templars encased in ice, exploded apart or set ablaze. Fighting could be heard in the distance all around us.
Houses on the outskirts were either already burnt to the ground or in the midst of burning. The land itself was scarred with the violence: burnt crops, pock marks where mages had blown things up, weapons and arrows littering the ground. Abandoned camps dotted the countryside - some with signs of death as the only remains.
As we crested a hill, Cassandra pointed, "There's the camp," relief in her voice.
The sun was high in the sky when we finally saw the camp below us. It was nestled in a valley overlooking the Crossroads sitting at the base of the steep hill we'd just climbed and backed by some farmland. We could see recruits bustling about, flags atop the tents unfurling in a breeze with the Inquisition's emblem emblazoned upon them.
I felt as Cullen sighed in relief. We hadn't slowed or stopped since the attack, for fear we would be ambushed again. A few recruits were standing guard a ways off from the camp and saw us as we got closer. One ran back to the camp, the other towards us.
"Commander," she saluted Cullen.
Cullen nodded, "Have them prep a tent for Meira. The rest of you go on ahead, I'm sure Scout Harding has some information for you all. Soldiers, follow behind me."
Ellana and her companions jogged off towards camp, the recruit following up the rear. I looked up at Cullen, his amber eyes scanning the post as we approached. There was anger on his face as his lips were set in a firm line.
"All this destruction, all this violence and for what? This accomplishes nothing," he growled.
"Perhaps they feel there is no other way to settle things?" I voiced, giving him the ability to vent.
"Andraste preserve us if that is the case," he let out a breath, "It's not that I don't understand the plight of both sides, but this? It makes templars look no better than crazed butchers and mages no better than power-hungry monsters," Cullen shook his head.
"Though neither is the truth," I added, "At least not the majority of the truth."
"Exactly," he agreed, his eyes meeting mine briefly, "Do mages need more freedoms? Yes, but they must acknowledge that those freedoms must be exercised with proper caution; they are powerful beings that attract more powerful beings. Do templars need to be shown appreciation for the work they do by willingly throwing themselves into danger? Yes, but they must acknowledge that those are the vows they took - to serve and sacrifice. To serve and sacrifice, not to enslave, imprison and abuse. I know the Circles are...not ideal, but surely there is some kind of compromise that can be reached? Some middle ground?"
"Of course there is, but the one chance they had to civilly come to that compromise was blown to the Void," I reminded him, "They blamed each other first and this is the result."
"Andraste help us," he murmured, "I hope the Inquisition can do something. We must."
"We are," I stressed and then tried to hide the pull of a smile on my lips, "I mean who would have thought we'd see the day a templar would carry a mage - in his arms no less - to safety?"
Cullen barked a laugh, "This is real progress."
We smiled at each other.
"You look exhausted," Cullen commented, his eyes studying my face as he adjusted my hood.
I gave a small chuckle as I pointedly looked at his own tired face, "So do you."
He gave a wry twist of his lips in response as we entered the camp. Recruits bustled about: orders being shouted, items being collected, and the reoccurrence of soldiers stopping whatever they were doing to salute to Cullen as we passed them. He would nod and they'd be off to finish the task they'd been in the middle of doing. Cullen directed the group of soldiers that had accompanied us to continue on to the Crossroads, to clear a path if necessary.
I caught a glimpse of Ellana and the others surrounding a dwarven woman who was animatedly describing something. Worry furrowed her auburn brow, causing the constellations of freckles on her face to stretch. Solas's eyes flicked up to us, he nodded an apology as he dismissed himself and gracefully approached us. Amelia returned and directed Cullen to a nearby tent, Solas holding the flap open as Cullen ducked inside. He lowered me to a cot, thanked Solas and ducked back out the tent.
Solas went to work healing what remained of my wound. I watched in wonder as he cast his magic. His slender fingers were methodical in their movements, his magic intricately weaving through them almost like water. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he had done several times. I quirked a brow at him when his blue-grey eyes held mine.
"How long have you been suppressing your dreamer abilities?" he asked casually, as if commenting on the weather.
"My what?" I blinked.
"Dreamer?" he quirked a dark brow, but a bemused smirk twitched on his full lips.
"I don't know what that is," I admitted.
"I suppose I am not surprised, having been raised in the Circle. Very few know of dreamers, dream-walkers or 'somniari' in Tevene," he offered, his tone slightly condescending.
"What are dreamers?" my full attention on him now.
"Mages who are able to enter the Fade at will. It is easier while sleeping, may even happen involuntarily for the inexperienced, but it is not a requirement. They can also enter other people's dreams. When they do, they can reshape those dreams and in so doing help, madden or kill the person dreaming."
"I do not posses those abilities," I rejected the idea, the thought terrifying.
"Then how do you explain entering the Commander's dream last night?" his face serious now.
"How do you know about that?" bewilderment in my voice as I sat up on my elbows.
"You were not as quiet as you presumed," he offered, his eyes boring into my own, the light of his magic causing contrasting shadows to dance on his face.
"I have no idea how that happened. I have never entered another person's dream," I confessed, my heart quickening.
"That's why I asked how long you've been suppressing them," his voice even, but impatient.
"I haven't been," I tried to explain, "I always had good control of my magic before, it was easy - almost as easy as breathing. Now it's difficult, if I can even cast at all. The only time it seems to come easily is when I am using it to heal."
"Is this a recent change?" his voice easing into curiosity again.
"Well yes, I was Tranquil for nearly two years," I stated sardonically, looking away in frustration.
"True," he chuckled, "Have you tried a staff? Perhaps having a focus point to channel your mana through would help?"
"I haven't been given one and before I was made Tranquil, I never really needed one. I found it hindered instead of helped. I know Harritt doesn't have the resources right now to make a proper staff and using someone else's has never worked for me. They would break when I tried."
Solas studied me, as if his mind was working out some problem, "Interesting. We may need to look at gathering what you need to make your own. However, I believe your magic is just as strong as ever, it's just hidden within you."
I shook my head in disbelief.
"So, the giant ice spike you nearly impaled Asaala on? Entering the Commander's dream? Your ability to heal with such ease despite your having convinced yourself that using your magic is difficult?" he rebuked, his voice impatient again.
"The ice spike was a fluke of my emotions. The dream, I can't explain. Healing always came easy to me before, I just have more knowledge now," I rebutted.
"For you to be able to heal with such proficiency tells me that your magic is not difficult to control nor is it weak. You just need to find a different key, so to speak, to unlock it then the one you used to use. Dreamers are tied to emotions and to have your magic respond better to strong emotions is an obvious sign and possibly your new key. Entering another's dream is not possible unless you are a dreamer," Solas explained slowly, as if to a child.
"Is there an absolute way to confirm that I am?" biting back my irritation at his condescension.
Solas chuckled again, "Entering someone's dream is a fairly solid confirmation. "
"That may be so, but how do we know that the Breach isn't effecting magic? Making the Veil thin, easing passage between the Fade and reality?" I hypothesized, "After all, a spirit of the Fade broke my Rite of Tranquility and seems to reside in my own essence now. Could that not be why I entered so easily and consciously?"
"So that's how you broke the Rite?" Solas questioned, his arrogance faltering for a moment, "I had considered many theories, the Breach's existence being at the center of most of them. I had not considered a spirit coming to your aid. That is truly fascinating. I will have to think on this and see if I cannot deduce a way to test which is the true cause. I find it unlikely that the spirit is responsible, but I cannot be certain. Until we are able to properly test it, however, I recommend a potion that will let you sleep, but keep you from entering the Fade."
He told me what herbs to use, how much and how to mix it for proper effect. I marveled at his knowledge and willingness to share it with me, despite his normally guarded persona.
"How do you know these things?" I murmured.
Solas smirked, "You'll find this is the only potion I am able to make, but as I said, in the Circle you were sheltered from much of the world's knowledge."
"That doesn't answer my question," I rolled my eyes at him.
Solas met my gaze when I looked at him again, a strange light in his stormy eyes. He pursed his lips before opening his mouth to speak.
"How's she doing?" Ellana asked as the tent flap whipped open.
"Your sister is healed. We should be able to move as soon as needed," Solas stood.
"Good, we need to be on our way. The ship leaves in a few hours," Ellana worried her lip.
...
Signs of battle were even more evident as we approached the Crossroads, but the refugees seemed hopeful despite it. I watched as they observed the people of the Inquisition with rapt attention. Many came forward to speak with Ellana, bowing or kneeling, calling her "Herald" with awe and desperation in their voice. I could tell Ellana was uncomfortable with the attention, even unsettled by it, but she allowed them their admiration. She even asked a few how they were fairing. I kept myself tucked under my hood, avoiding gazes that lingered too long. Cullen had climbed a steep hill to talk with Corporal Vale who had been put in charge of the Inquisition soldiers stationed here after Ellana and the others had beaten back the rogue mages and templars.
"So, you have returned," a gentle Orlesian voice spoke behind me.
I turned to find an elderly woman smiling at me. Her dusky skin was lined with the start of wrinkles, and dark, warm eyes studied me. She had her knotted hands clasped in front of her, the swollen joints giving more indication of her age than her wrinkles. An upside-down triangle cornette of pink and white decorated with gold accents sat atop her head, falling into the customary robes of a Chantry Mother.
"I presume you are Mother Giselle?" I inclined my head, returning her smile.
"And I presume you are Meira, twin sister to the Herald," Giselle's intelligent eyes studied me, "Is your sister departing for Val Royeaux, then?"
"Yes, she and the others are to meet a boat in Redcliffe," I replied as the two of us studied Ellana as she continued to interact with the refugees.
"So, you will be escorting me back to Haven?" Giselle asked, her head turning towards me once more.
"Commander Cullen and I yes," I met her eyes.
"I am afraid, I am not ready to depart," her hands tightened a fraction.
"Why ever not?" I asked, irritatedly crossing my arms over my chest.
"These people are in desperate need of help," Giselle replied, looking around at the refugees.
"I understand, Mother, but the Inquisition's allies are few," I pressed, "You are not safe here."
"Child, these people would be your allies if you'd help them," she spread her hands wide.
"True enough," I sighed realizing the truth in her words, "What is needed?"
"Food, healing, clothing, protection -" Giselle listed off, her eyes full of feeling as she looked around at the people.
"Oh, is that all?" I asked bitterly.
Giselle gave a kind twist of her lips at my disrespect instead of the expected rebuke. I looked at her apologetically to which she gave a wave of dismissal.
"We'll do what we can," I offered, my tone more respectful, "but our Commander wants us to seek out the local horsemaster before we do anything else."
"Of course," Giselle nodded, "Mounts would make your work far easier. I will be fine among the people here, they have generously looked after me. Now with Corporal Vale and the other soldiers here, we are far less afraid of becoming victims to the madmen around us."
I could hear the tenderness in her voice as she spoke of the people she'd made her charges. I admired the woman before me: she was older, had no magic and no visible weapons on her and yet she had thrown herself into danger to care for the less fortunate. She had done so even when so many of her Chantry sisters and brothers had abandoned the people after the loss of Justinia. That is what I pictured the Chantry's role to actually be: the calm, the shelter in the midst of chaos.
"Andaran atish'an, Mother Giselle," Ellana greeted warmly as she approached us, finally breaking away from the throng of admirers.
"And you, Herald," Giselle inclined her head, "I wish you luck in Val Royeaux."
"I hope your counsel pans out," Ellana voiced, worry furrowing her brow.
"They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe," Giselle advised, conviction in her tone.
"We'll see what happens," Ellana replied.
"Maker go with you," Giselle inclined her head.
Ellana returned the gesture as she strode to the local merchant. Cassandra had gone ahead to Redcliffe to finalize the arrangements for passage on the ship to Val Royeaux. Varric, Solas and Asaala were in different directions helping the refugees with varying tasks - patching up houses, carrying the dead, clearing the main road. Solas was amongst the wounded to the left of the largest house, healing what he could. I began walking toward him, figuring it was the best place for me to help.
"Serah, please," an older elf male approached me in my peripheral.
He was hesitant to approach, but desperation was in his eyes as he pleaded for my help.
"What do you need?" I asked.
"It's my wife. She can't breathe," his voice broke, tears shining in his eyes as he looked me over, "I don't even know if you can help me but -"
"-Take me to her," I urged.
He led me up a inclined stone path to a small hut. It was a hovel, but looked like every effort had been made to make it cozy. I heard a deep wheezing coming from the female that was curled up on the bed; she was pale, clammy and it was taking obvious effort for her to breathe.
I placed my hands over her and called forth my healing magic. Her airways were tight because of inflammation. I concentrated on the inflammation easing. Magic wouldn't normally be necessary, but the female was in need of instant relief. As her airways relaxed, she began to breathe easier.
When she did, I went to their worn table, taking out a large bundle of embrium from my satchel that I had kept aside from being taken back to Haven. I used the flat of my dagger blade to crush some of the flowers into a paste. Upon finishing, I cleaned my blade and returned it to it's scabbard.
Taking a few whole flowers and the paste in a swath of cotton, I returned to the female. I spread the paste along her throat and chest before tucking a few of the whole flowers under her pillow. I observed as color came back to her face, her breathing returning to normal, allowing her to relax enough to fall asleep.
"Thank you! Thank you!" the male cried, stroking his wife's face, "My son, Hyndel, he makes a potion for her, but he joined some cult in the hills and we've no more. I can't send a letter because of the rogue mages and templars."
"I am happy to help," I assured, "If it should happen again, do as I did. Embrium is the quick fix."
"Absolutely," he nodded as I handed him the remaining embrium, "May the Maker bless you. Is there someway I can repay you?"
"No payment is needed," I shook my head.
He smiled and bowed to me before returning to his wife's side, lovingly stroking his wife's arm in comfort. I ducked out of the hut.
"Where were you?" Cullen asked curiously, having returned by the time I had exited the hut.
"Healing an elven female who couldn't breathe," I gestured to the hut behind me.
"Did she recover?" his voice earnest.
"Yes, it was not very complicated, but did require magic and some herbs," I assured.
"Good," he nodded.
"Have the others left?" I asked, my eyes scanning the people around us.
"Not yet," Cullen sighed, irritably, "There's been a complication. The mages that haven't gone completely mad have locked themselves inside Redcliffe and are refusing entrance to anyone. Cassandra was able to get word from the ship's captain. They can still travel to Val Royeaux, but they will have to go to Highever to meet the ship.
"Which will work well as we dispatched a small group of soldiers to Highever as an honor guard before we left. Teryn Cousland is holding a vigil for the victims of the Conclave and the Divine. Your sister and the others should be able to catch up to them; but to be sure, I sent word to have them stop at a halfway point. The others were getting some supplies before they left."
"Are we concerned about the mages in Redcliffe?" I asked, my eyes finding Ellana still with the merchant, the others beside her now.
"Leliana's people will keep an eye on the situation as discreetly as possible." So that's a yes then.
"What about the templars?" I asked.
"Corporal Vale informed me that the mages and templars still fighting are rebels," Cullen growled, "The templars still loyal to the Order were called to Val Royeaux, those that remained have ignored that order. The mages that aren't party to this destruction are in Redcliffe. Seems many on both sides have abandoned their causes in favor of simply killing each other and anything that gets in their way."
What a grim reality. I watched as Ellana exchanged some of the herbs we'd kept for dried meat, bread and a wheel of cheese.
"Mother Giselle said these people are desperate for food," I voiced, changing the subject.
"Yes, Corporal Vale and a recruit named Whittle were just informing me of the situation," he sighed wearily, stress plain on his face, "It is somewhat dire. They need food, clothing, blankets, an actual healer...I have sent word to Rylen for more recruits to be sent to the area to at least help with clean up and repairs. A local hunter wants to help train some of the recruits to hunt and help gather food in exchange for protection by the local troops. I asked Rylen to select those he thought had the most potential with a bow and send them here."
"Clothing and blankets we, unfortunately, can't do anything about as we have no money to spare; but I sent word to Leliana to see if there was anything we could provide out of the donations from pilgrims to Haven or what was left behind by those we lost following the explosion. As far as a healer goes, Whittle says there's one in Redcliffe, but Mother Giselle has been handling things well enough it won't be a pressing need until she leaves."
"Surely some immediate action needs to take place?" I rebutted.
"It does, but what would you have us do? We have our own needs to meet," he countered, his face saying he understood, but there was nothing we could do.
"I know," I murmured, dejectedly.
Cullen placed a hand on my shoulder, " We will do all we can, we just can't do it all immediately. What we can do, is see to mounts to make our job a little easier in moving supplies and troops."
"Lead the way, Commander," I waved a hand.
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