"CULLEN!" she screamed again, this time louder - more desperate. I could hear the strain in her voice, an emotion I had never witnessed in all my travels with her. I felt a twinge of odd jealousy over it; the sound of her pain, her despair, her longing. I didn't understand who had provoked it, or why, but this was not the woman I had met back at Ostagar.
"CULLEN, PLEASE ANSWER ME!" she screamed again, this time her hand drawn by the mage, Wynne, who exchanged an odd look with the elf before she surrendered and lowered her cupped hands.
Maker's breath, the woman had tears in her eyes..
"You might not want to shout-" I tried offering quietly with a pointed finger. "These abominations don't seem the friendly sort." She turned on me then, frigid eyes ablaze with a fury I had never seen.
"Dare you even SPEAK to me, you wretched, loathsome, BASTARD-" she had her hand raised in crackling vengeance, and I instantly crumpled into my posture and held up surrendering hands, only to find myself spared.
"ENOUGH, Isthalla!" Wynne barked. "This bickering shall get us nowhere! If you seek to chastise Alistair for his choice of words, then do so another time. We have more important matters to deal with!" Isthalla looked absolutely livid.
"I agree…" Morrigan stepped into the conversation now - an honest surprise, in my opinion. I kept my eyes trained on Isthalla, however, who I feared was presently planning a way to melt my brain into a fine ooze while Wynne wasn't looking. I swallowed a budding lump in my throat.
"We should press on, Isthalla," Morrigan spoke, turning her troubled eyes to the angry little elf seeking to kill me. The fire seemed to lessen in her eyes when she turned her attention to the witch, her mouth pressed taut.
"We will find him," she murmured reassuringly to Isthalla while briefly touching a hand to her shoulder. I saw her expression completely change, yet again, as if some sort of invisible wall melted at the mere mention of this mysterious person's presence.
I waited until we were moving again to fall to the back of the line alongside Morrigan and tipped my head.
"Who in the Maker's name is she looking for?" I asked, bewildered, while still keeping my eyes trained on the back of her head should she attempt to try and sneak a hex over her shoulder.
"A man of no concern to you, Alistair," she responded numbly. My ears would have perked at the news - a man? Maker's beard-
"A man?" I squalled a little too loudly. Wynne shot me a vicious look that sent a cold twist into my gut as I sheepishly hunkered into my shoulders and adjusted my tone.
"A man?" I murmured. "Exactly who is this man-fellow I had no knowledge about?" I demanded.
"Drop it, Alistair," Morrigan hissed. I frowned.
"I want to know!" I shot back, still wary to keep my voice under. I feared those elf-ears would catch the light of our conversation and turn on me at any given moment. "I have a right to know, you know-" I added defiantly. Morrigan raised a brow at that one.
"Really now?" she snorted.
"Yes, I do-" I continued, already feeling my boasting lie caving in on me. I had no business in her personal affairs, truly, but I didn't exactly find it fair that everyone else in the party knew and I didn't. Was I not trustworthy? I felt conflicted on this thought.
"Well when you can give me a truly good reason as to why I should reveal the personal matters of Isthalla's relationships with others to a man she despises-" Morrigan waved her hand in the air with a sneer, glancing at me,"-then please, let me know."
I blinked, surprised.
"Someone was actually crazy enough to be in a relationship with that woman?" I scoffed, completely unbelieving to the bizarre statement. I could, in all honesty of the Maker, not find myself able to imagine a man who could stomach that relentless, absolutely mad woman much less have relations with her. Not unless they were missing limbs or some other part of their body.
Morrigan didn't seem very happy at my insinuation, and shot me a nasty glare in return. I had apparently made it my duty today to collect loathsome glares from all of the women today. I decided to take count as it being the fourth in the past half-hour. A record.
"Just because you may find her disagreeable doesn't mean the rest of us do, you witless bastard-"
"Really, is the name-calling that necessary?" I ground out, annoyed. "I've had my fair share of the word bastard today, for sure. Yes, I get it. Thank you. Reminder noted."
"Seems fitting enough," she retaliated, still glaring. I swear a small grin tipped the corner of her lips. "It is the truth, after all."
"Hey, that's not fair!"
"'Tis fair in my opinion-" she shrugged.
"No, it's not," I argued. "Only if I can call you a bastard as well." I stubbornly crossed my arms, challenging her word. She perked a brow, smiling.
"You are aware that bastard only applies to a man..?" she trailed off, so ardently trying to contain the condescension from her tone. I could hear it loud and clear, however. It put a distasteful frown on my lips.
"I don't think I like what you're insinuating.." I narrowed my gaze.
"I insinuate nothing; simply make observations of things that are true, Alistair-" she shrugged, relenting her eyes away as she turned back to watch the front and ascend the staircase along with Wynne and Isthalla. I followed suit.
"And what observation do you make of me, then?" I challenged, my arms now at my sides, balled into fists.
"Only that which is fact, Alistair-" she said pointedly while tapping a finger to the air. "One - you are a bastard-"
"And two-" she pointed again, nodding.
"-You are a fool."
I opened my mouth to retort, and instead found my angry retaliation drowned out by the sound of a scream. My head whipped around to the source, and eyes halted upon the twisted, disfigured form of a woman in the center of the room. She was engulfed by what looked like pulsating, blood-drenched skin. It was slowly crawling its way up her body, and as it made its way to devour her entirely, I could hear the sickening crack of bones and flesh melding into the creature.
"O-Oh Maker's blood-" I whispered, the life and warmth leaving my body in an instant rush of sickening cold that took over my skin. I felt the instant need to vomit, and plastered a hand to my mouth to stay the turning nausea. "W-What is that thing?!" I couldn't stand hearing her screams; my heart plummeted into my throat as another gurgled, strangling cry pierced the chamber and echoed off the walls.
"HELP HER!" I screamed at the others, but none would move. Tears began to prick at my eyes as I looked back at her face - innocent, helpless. She looked at me with fear and despairing hope as the life was gruesomely taken from her body. I choked on what could have been a dry heave and sob building in my throat, and again had to crush my hand further over my mouth.
"For M-Maker's sake, at least put her out of her misery!" I gestured wildly to her. Still, I could not move. Fear and horror froze me to my spot, as had the others. No one could move, nor react. We simply stood and watched in horror as this beast, this creature of a demon ate away at her skin and bones.
My eyes searched for Isthalla, and found her standing at the very front, arms spread just shy of her body, hands frozen in an apparition of sightless terror. She was in a state of shock. I saw them tremble, then begin to shake. I tore my gaze back to the fraction of her face visible to me, and strained my expression into desperation.
"HELP HER!" I screamed.
She reacted with a jerk to my words, posture abruptly shifting into a taut, motionless stone wall as she jerked her hands back to her side and gripped them hard into her palm. I saw some remnant of pity and perhaps even sorrow pass over her face before she turned to look at me, defiant tears trickling down her face, and gripped her jaw.
"You do it." she ordered. I stared, disbelieving, with hands dropped dumbly at my sides, before she winced with impatience and stormed up to me. She ripped my sword from the hilt and shoved it into my hands.
"If you're so intent on killing them, then do it," she snarled, a dark fury rising in her eyes. It was different than her anger, Maker this was something entirely absent of the fury I had witnessed earlier. This was a cold and emotionless wound I had unwittingly stirred deep within the belly of a beast. This was personal, and harmful, and Maker did I feel like crawling back within my skin with unrelenting fear over the bitter intensity she displayed.
My face crinkled into a look of first despair, then horror at what I knew she expected me to do. I took the weapon with numb, deaf hands and stared at her, feeling the ice sink into my veins. The metal weight of the sword was dead within my grip as I looked at her, passing once more over the vindictive ferocity set in her stone-hard eyes, and looked back at the woman in the center of the room.
I took careful, silent steps toward her, my heart pounding like an iron hammer in my chest. I felt sick; I could hurl over the stone floor at any moment. My legs were shaking, and palms already laced with cold sweat. I stopped a foot from her face, just barely distinguishable now against the pulsing flesh slowly crawling its way over her jaw. If I hadn't been so entranced by the horrible sight, I would have vomited. I could smell the stink of death on her already, the scent of decaying flesh and a rotting, swallowed corpse.
I swallowed hard, feeling the world around me fade into the background. All I could see was the girl - she couldn't be older than Isthalla, perhaps younger. Her eyes were filmed over with a sightless possession, and I wondered briefly what she must have looked like before this… creature had taken her. She twisted her head now, silent, looking at me with those empty eyes.
"P-Please, help me.." she whispered, barely louder than a tremble. She was so weak, so exhausted from trying to fight it. My stomach clenched from the pain in her voice. Tears stung my eyes again.
"I-I'm so sorry," I shook my head, raising my sword. She smiled at me then, through the blood now trickling from her eyes and mouth.
You would kill them all, anyway…
I froze mid-swing as the words cut through my subconscious. I stared at her, blissful, empty smile written on her face, as I felt the sword lower in my hands.
"W-What..?" I choked out, feeling my words beginning to constrict in my throat. A sudden fear began to tremble under my skin and raise the hair on the back of my neck. My body was trembling - itching to get away. My heart began to thrash violently in my chest as I looked at her, begging to decide if I had heard another speak.
You will kill her..
The sword dropped from my hands in horror as she twisted her head around, the bones snapping and squelching as I watched the flesh of her neck rip in half. Blood poured from her mouth now, down onto the twisted form of her decayed breasts and onto the floor. I took a shaking step backwards, tears now forming in my eyes as I felt an overwhelming terror take hold of my chest. I couldn't breathe - I couldn't think. I felt like screaming from the terror she invoked from mere laughter, yet no words produced.
You will kill her, maim her, rip her, rape her..
Tear the flesh from her BONES!
"NO!" I screamed, holding up an arm so I wouldn't have to look at her anymore. I shut my eyes, trying to force the nightmare away. Maker's blood, where were the others? Where had they gone? Everything was shrouded in a wall of shadow. I couldn't see where I was standing any longer. The stone chamber had disappeared, and all that remained was the girl, standing there, looking at me with horrible eyes.
"You would have killed us all," she mocked me. I fell to my knees, shaking, trembling, feeling the tears leak down my face as I put my head into my hands and sobbed.
"N-No, no, no-" I begged, rocking back and forth. I could sense her there, hovering just inches from my ear. She smiled.
"Let us die and rot in the consuming flesh of our friends, our brothers, our sisters," she whispered in a mocking voice. I tried to scream to shut out her voice, but only a hoarse whisper managed to produce.
"That's what you said to her, Alistair-" she murmured, and I felt her cold hand brush my face. I opened my eyes then, staring wide through the slits of my fingers as I recalled the argument before entering the heart of the tower.
"I stand with Greagoir. We should invoke the Rite of Annulment."
"You would condemn every living being in this Tower to death, then?" she spat, horrified. I saw an equal look of surprise written on Morrigan's face - an uneasy disappointment I felt cornered by. I turned back to her, desperate.
"These magi are not PEOPLE, Isthalla! Not anymore! I'm not about to risk my life for an abomination that will probably kill us! Think reasona-"
"Maker send you into the deepest pit of HELL, Alistair!" she screamed.
"These are MY PEOPLE; I will fight every last damned abomination if it means my LIFE, if I know I can save just ONE!"
There were tears in her eyes when she spoke.
Yes, you remember it don't you? she whispered. I watched as the floor shifted into a pool of water, and saw Isthalla's face reflected in the dark pool. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes filled with a great regret and sadness. I felt a lump form in my throat.
The image shifted, flashing over the scene of a templar screaming her name and reaching out a hand to someone. It was a woman, a mage standing with her hands raised over him and a fury in her white eyes. It was-
"Isthalla.." I choked out, reaching desperate fingers to the water. The image instantly distorted as white lines spread over the water, fanning out in a great circle from the ripples produced.
She loved him… a templar.
The demon's voice sounded sad, almost reflecting as she, too, watched the images flash in the darkness of the water. It shifted to a reflection of the same man, his eyes darkened by something I could not see. I saw a great sadness in his expression as well, and again heard him say her name.
"Isthalla, wait-"
It shifted again.
"YOU SHALL NOT TOUCH HIM!"
I saw the guards surround her at the entrance, and she - stepping in front of the other two - with her hand raised. A scream, and then darkness. Blood filled the water, and another name was screamed.
JOWAN!
It shifted, and I saw her on her knees, her face distorted by bruises and blood, and her hands bound. The Knight-Commander stood over her. I saw him raise an armored hand and knock her hard across the face, sending her to the floor. I felt myself visibly jolt at the sight, tears filling my eyes.
"Why are you showing me this?" I shuddered, anger now tensing into my posture as I looked up and searched for the demon once more. "I don't want to see this," I ground out, taking one more glance at the water where I saw her lying in a bloodied heap, and stood to my feet.
"Stop it," I ordered, fists tensing at my side.
She reappeared then, floating some ten feet from where I stood. A desire demon; like the one we had seen on the first floor. I felt my jaw tense as I took in the sight of her, and breathed deep, preparing to protect myself.
"And why should I?" she laughed, floating over to me. I bristled as she came within a foot, but her clawed hands did not touch my skin. They merely ghosted over the shape of my shoulders as she spun around to my backside and whispered in my ear. "It's what you wanted, after all…" she murmured.
"T-That is not what I wanted," I said, horrified, while pointing at the water, still reflecting horrible scenes I dare not embed to my memory. I had looked again, and tried to force my eyes away but found them stilled again by the terrible scenes. She was strapped down to a bed, screaming, her eyes and mouth lit with a red glow as the same templar tried to constrain her back down with his hands and yelled her name. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head to the side.
"I said I don't want to see this any longer-" I ground out. She laughed.
"But it is what you wanted," she persisted, switching around to my left. "You said yourself - they're not people…" her two-toned voice hissed into my ear. "Why should it matter? Let them all die…"
"Stop it," I wavered, hearing my own voice beginning to crack.
"Perhaps she should die as well, don't you think?"
"I said stop it."
"Let them scream, let the innocent children be torn apart by the abominations. Flesh on the walls, slinging corpses to the ceiling, blood for decoration!" she cackled.
"STOP IT!" I screamed, swinging my fist around to where she stood. She vanished instantly, reappearing in a cloud of smoke in front of me.
"What is it? The templar does not like hearing the truth?" she chuckled. I could feel the anger beginning to burn in my chest, deep down until it reached the tips of my shaking fists.
"Shut up, I am not a templar-" I snarled, my vision blurring her until she was nothing but a foggy outline of purple. "You will leave now, demon. I will not let you bring harm to her or any mage in this tower!"
She laughed then, a chilling and cold laugh that sent a shiver up my spine. My vision cleared again, and her black eyes were staring me down across the dark room.
"Silly boy, it is not I you should fear over her safety-" she began, stretching out a clawed finger to the dark void to my left. I felt my stomach twist over as I narrowed my eyes and, to my horror, saw a muddied image of myself appear along with the others. I took numb steps towards the image, confused.
"What is this dark magic..?" I trembled. I watched myself as if I were walking behind by a few feet. Morrigan walked beside me as we made our way up the steps.
"Just because you may find her disagreeable doesn't mean the rest of us do, you witless bastard-"
"Really, is the name-calling that necessary?" I ground out, annoyed. "I've had my fair share of the word bastard today, for sure. Yes, I get it. Thank you. Reminder noted."
I stared, confused and bewildered, as I watched the scene replay from a third perspective. Isthalla stepped through the open archway into the open room, but instead of being greeted by the disfigured woman being consumed by the pulsing flesh, there was nothing. The room was empty.
I opened my mouth to ask the demon, and found my words stuck in my throat as I heard Morrigan's strangled voice call out my name. A pain struck my chest.
"ALISTAIR!" she yelped, turning to my body, crumpled on the floor. The others turned to look at me. I saw fear flicker in Isthalla's eyes as she stepped up after the others, staff gripped tightly in her hands.
Morrigan knelt over me with trembling hands, trying to wake me by continuing to call my name.
"Don't touch him," Isthalla ordered. Morrigan froze mid-reach and looked up at her, eyes wide.
"..No-" she shook her head. I saw fear in her eyes, followed by grief. "No, Isthalla he didn't! I was watching!" Isthalla remained motionless.
"Not carefully enough," she chided. "Step back, all of you," she warned, tapping her staff to Morrigan's shoulder. I saw her offer one last, worried glance before standing to her feet and taking a slow step back. I could feel the foreign knot twisting in my chest at the sight of Morrigan's fear.
What was wrong? Why was she so upset?
I watched as the others stepped back from my body, and suddenly felt a cold chill settle over my skin. I looked back to the demon, and instead found a woman standing beside me. I yelled and jumped away when I recognized the face - red lips, the same red markings and dark hair - and found myself frozen in a posture of bewilderment as I stared at the woman who was not Isthalla.
Her skin was as white as a ghost, and long, dark hair tumbled down her back in a wave of ink black. She looked so frightfully similar to her… in ever way nearly, except for the shape of her face. Her face held a kindness to it that Isthalla's did not possess, and her eyes… a gentle warmth otherwise absent in the eyes of the woman I knew.
"Who are you?" I demanded, but found my voice barely treading on a wavering whisper. I tried swallowing hard to rid myself of the dry sensation in my throat. My hands were cold and clammy again, and the sense of fear was beginning to creep over my body once more.
I am a spirit…
No words spoke from her lips, yet I heard the voice speak as clearly as before. I creased my brow at her and shook my head.
"You're a demon," I argued, face crumpling into confusion. "I saw you-"
"Oh really, did you see me?" she asked, perking. I saw her brown eyes shift to an empty blackness, and again the cold whispered over my arms. I felt chills settle across my skin, and promptly rubbed them with a shaking hand.
Not everything is in black and white, templar..
She shifted again, back to the familiar demoness I had witnessed earlier. I felt myself bristle on instinct at the sight of her.
"No more games, creature-" I said defiantly while raising my hands into a defensive posture. "You will stop this now or face my blade."
"Oh, really?" she asked, genuinely surprised. A smile curled on her demon lips as she tilted her head a me and laughed. "I believe it is you whom you should worry about, templar-" she said while pointing a bony index back to the black abyss.
I saw the shadows shift once more to show me the tower room where I had last been standing. I could see Morrigan standing to the side, petrified, and traveled my eyes the length of the room. I sucked in a sharp breath.
No…
There, at the other end of the corridor, I saw myself locked in a violent battle with Isthalla. I swung my sword relentlessly, my movements possessed by an unnatural force as I twisted and lunged at her again and again, all the while her screaming my name.
"Alistair, stop this! Do you hear me, STOP!"she yelled, but I did not waver. I did not budge. For a brief interlude, I watched myself lower the sword and huff out beast-like snorts through my nose. My eyes were an empty, glowing white. I felt my breath hitching in my throat.
"Isthalla, no, no!" I cried, trying to reach out for the image but finding it just shy of my grasp every time. "I'm here!" I yelled, my voice cracking with disbelief. "Please, Isthalla!"
She can't hear you…
I whipped my head to the demon beside me, enraged by the satisfied grin curling on her lips. I turned back to the reflection, my heart beginning to pound the faster I was forced to watch myself attack my comrades. I had still not moved in the image; I stood there, heaving, and Isthalla watched me from ten feet away, her staff raised warily.
"..Alistair?" she tried, one hand out. I continued to stand in the middle of the room, sword tip touching the stone floor, and breath heaving in and out like an angered ox.
"NO, don't-" I tried to warn her, but she couldn't hear me. She reached out, and in that instant I watched my possessed body grab hold of her wrist, twist her into the air, and slam her with sickening force into the stone floor. A great crack resounded against the walls with her scream, then complete silence. Her motionless body was abandoned in the broken stone slabs of the floor and I watched myself turn on Morrigan, still standing in the corner with a terror I had never seen enveloping her eyes. The reflection abruptly faded and, suddenly, I was enveloped in darkness once more.
"No, NO-" I screamed, clawing through the black to find it again, to see her and make sure she was okay. I swung around to turn on the demon, and found her absent as well. A plane of pure darkness stretched out before me. I felt angry, bitter tears stinging my eyes.
"LET ME GO!" I screamed, but no one appeared. I heard an echoing laugh fade through the black abyss and disappear into nothingness.
I have given you exactly what you wanted…
They will all die at your hands.