Chapter 2: Innocence Proves…

Cassandra had to admit as they traveled down the frozen river that Ravenor's abilities, despite being less flashy than most magic she had witnessed, were quite helpful. Their path was littered with more shades, some freshly spawned from the chunks of Fade-infused rock falling from the Breach, others aimlessly wandering. Likely cast-offs and survivors from previous skirmishes with the Chantry's forces.

It would have been a difficult slog for the Seeker had she needed to protect Ravenor the whole way, but his back-line assistance made disposing of the demons much easier. While Cassandra smashed them with her shield and cut them down with her sword, Ravenor telekinetically hurled chunks of rock and ice, often with enough power to crack skulls and break bones. When there were no suitable missiles lying around he switched tactics, grabbing at the foes directly. More than once the Seeker found an enemy she was defending against suddenly thrown to the ground by an invisible pulse of power, leaving it open to an easy finishing strike from her sword.

They passed more than one human body. Some bore the weapons and armor of soldiers of the Chantry, or of bodyguards for the many nobles and dignitaries that had attended. Too many had neither. All Cassandra could do for any of them now was make note of the location of the bodies and hope there was still someone left to mourn for them in a day.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra saw Ravenor stop and turn to one side, as if gazing off into the distance. Just how does he see anyway? She hadn't seen even the tiniest opening or viewport in that metal exterior. Can magic let one see through solid metal like that?If so, the Seeker had never heard of mages doing such.

"There's something happening, just over that hill." Ravenor said. "Something… opening." A moment after he spoke Cassandra felt the pulse of pressure and the wave of queasiness that accompanied being close to a hole being torn in the veil.

"A rift!" Cassandra said, stuck between relief and worry. It seemed they had their test subject for the mark, but even the smallest of Fade rifts would be rife with fresh demons.

In the distance, faint sounds echoed around the hill and down to them in the frozen riverbed. Cassandra heard the clang of swords, the crackle of spells being cast, and the distinct thwip of a heavy crossbow being fired. Meaning the situation had become dire enough for the Chantry guards to give the dwarf back his absurdly oversized weapon…

"No time to waste then." she said, glancing briefly back at Ravenor, then starting off in the direction of the rift.

=][=

Ravenor followed Cassandra's lead, and they soon found she had been looking for; a set of worn stone steps, leading up and around the rocky hill bordering the river.

Even not psychically reading her, Ravenor could practically feel weariness rolling off of Cassandra, and underneath that, desperation. It was easy for him to surmise that he and his mark were her last-ditch hope to stop all of this death and destruction.

They quickly ascended the steps, ending up back on higher ground, not too far from where they would have been had the bridge not been destroyed. The sounds of nearby combat were clear now, as was the crackling distortion in reality that Ravenor was quickly coming to associate with these "Fade" creatures.

Ravenor sticking just behind Cassandra, the two advanced, turning a corner to find themselves in a ruined courtyard, the ground littered with black scorch marks and chunks of shattered masonry. The yard was consumed in combat, a number of human figures fighting against a swarm of those twisted gray creatures from before. Further into the courtyard, there were new creatures, spectral green figures hurling bolts of glowing Fade energy into the melee, forcing the defenders to divide their attention between fighting the foes in front of them and avoiding the ranged fire. Right before Ravenor's eyes a soldier in chainmail failed to keep that deadly balance, a bolt of energy burning through their chest as they tried to fend off one of the clawed creatures in front of them.

And hanging above it all was the rift. It appeared as a jagged formation of spiky grey rocks, coursing with green Fade energy, constantly shifting and rearranging itself seemingly at random. It sprouted from mid-air a good few meters off the ground, and in his witch-sight Ravenor could see it as the twisting, shuddering tear in reality that it was.

There was no need for Ravenor and Cassandra to exchange words. Cassandra charged ahead, joining the clustered melee in the center, slamming into the flank of the creatures. They growled and hissed in surprise at the sudden attack, quickly finding themselves driven back by the swords of their opponents, and more than a little brute force on Cassandra's part.

As she dealt with that section of the battle, Ravenor focused his attention on the green specters hurling death at them. He risked reaching out with the most power he had since arriving, lashing at the half-collapsed wall behind the ethereal creatures. He had seen a projectile from somewhere strike one of them down as he had arrived, so it seemed physical force worked just fine against them.

The air around the wall blurred and twisted ever so slightly, and then the entire wall collapsed forward in an avalanche of rubble. The specters barely had time to turn before being crushed under several tons of stone and mortar. Only one at the very edge of the area managed to throw itself clear. Ravenor dismissively put an icicle through its head.

With their fire support gone and their encirclement broken, the remaining creatures died quickly to the defenders. None even attempted to flee. They fought with vicious abandon until they were dead and dissolving back into the ether.

There was no time to celebrate or even just to take a breath. A moment after the last creature fell, the rift began to glow even brighter with green light. Tendrils of power lashed out, the air charging with energy. Ravenor could feel something—or a number of somethings—trying to push through the rift, and getting closer and closer to succeeding.

A robed man with a staff in hand broke out of the crowd, rushing to Ravenor's side.

"Quickly!" he said, shouting to be heard over the crackle of the rift. He put a hand on the back of Ravenor's chair and pushed him toward the tear in reality. As soon as he got close, Ravenor felt the mark spark on his body, pulling him towards the rift like metal to a magnet.

How the mark worked was entirely alien to Ravenor, but with no other ideas, he tried to concentrate like he would when reaching out with his psyker powers. He focused on the rift before him, trying to picture it closing in his mind. It worked, a lash of green energy striking out from the mark and attaching itself to the rift above the courtyard.

Ravenor felt power surge into the mark, from where he wasn't sure, and then into the rift. It didn't hurt him like when the mark had pulsed in sequence with the breach, but it set his entire being abuzz. Ravenor imagined that it was what standing next the main reactor on a battleship would be like. Right up against something incomprehensibly powerful, with even just the runoff energy almost being enough to fry a man.

Pushing past the strange sensations, Ravenor did his best to press more power into the rift. After a few seconds, something gave. The rock spikes extending from the rift shattered like glass, followed shortly by the tear in the air sealing with one last flash of green energy.

"It worked!" said Cassandra, breathless from the fight. "You were right Solas! It can seal the rifts. Maybe it could even seal the Breach…" There was something approaching hope in her voice, peeking out from underneath near-exhaustion.

"Indeed." said the man still beside Ravenor. "Whatever magic opened it would seem to be the same thing that placed the mark on it—"

"Him." interrupted Cassandra. "According to them."

"Ah. Either way they are linked." he said.

Finally convinced that the rift wasn't going to tear itself open again, Ravenor turned his attention to the man apparently named Solas. Ravenor was about to ask him if he was sure it would work on something so large compared to something relatively small like the just sealed breach. Then he caught sight of Solas, and the question died on his voxsponder.

He was slender, with slightly pale skin and a clean shaven head. He had a pointed chin and smooth skin that gave him a youthful appearance, but his eyes were bright with wisdom of age. What captured Ravenor's attention though, were his long pointed ears.

He said something else about "our salvation" but Ravenor wasn't really paying attention, still in shocked confusion. Pointed ears were a defining trait of the Eldar, but Ravenor was almost certain that this man wasn't one. He had spent years among Eldar—enough time to likely be considered heretical, even among the more open of Inquisitors—honing his power as a psyker. They were not simply humans with pointed ears as many less informed imperial citizens thought. They were well taller than normal humans, with features that were so graceful they spilled into uncanny to most human observers.

This Solas had none of that. He looked much closer to a human. Ravenor supposed he could simply be an abhuman or mutant that had pointed ears… but that seemed like a rather large coincidence to the Inquisitor. Ravenor wanted to ask him directly what he was, but the sight of the ever-expanding Breach in the sky made Ravenor pause. He decided after a moment of thought that there were more pressing matters to attend to. If this mark of his could seal the Breach, there would be plenty of time for questions later. If not, then it really wouldn't matter what Solas was.

"And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." said a low, drawling voice that pulled Ravenor out of his thoughts. He swiveled around to face the speaker, finding a man who was maybe two-thirds the height of an average human, but stocky and strong. He had light ginger hair that had been carefully slicked back, and a broad flat face with a slight look of amusement on it. Slung on his back was a huge crossbow nearly as long as he was tall.

"I didn't believe Chuckles when he said that there was actually something alive inside all that metal." he continued, gesturing slightly to where Solas stood. "But it looks like I was wrong. Good thing we didn't bet on it."

"You tried to." grumbled Solas. "Several times."

"Good thing for me. Not for you. You missed out on two silvers." the small man said with a chuckle.

"I take it you're not with the rest of her group?" Ravenor asked, flicking his chair slightly to his left towards Cassandra. The man with the crossbow lacked even a trace of the military bearing he had seen among the soldiers, and even now held himself at ease, idly tugging at one of his leather gloves.

The man in question gave a low whistle. "Freaky voice you got there buddy. Very intimidating. And no I'm not with the Chantry." He spread his arms wide, as if introducing himself dramatically on a stage. "Varric Tethras: rouge, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong." At the last part he looked at Cassandra and gave a wink. Her only reply was a glare of annoyance. "If you want to be technical," he continued, turning back to Ravenor. "I'm a prisoner like you."

"My name is Ravenor." he said, returning Varric's introduction. "They let prisoners carry weapons here, do they?"

Varric gave a brief laugh at the questions, reaching over his shoulder to pat the butt of his weapon. "Oh no one could keep me from my Bianca for long. And once the demons got out of hand, the guards decided that they needed all the help they could get, prisoner or not." he said with a slight smile. "Anyway, we should probably get a move on. I'm sure there's plenty of demons to kill in the valley—"

"Absolutely not!" interrupted Cassandra, taking a step past Ravenor to stand right in front of Varric. "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary. Your help here," she gestured to the ruined courtyard. "Is appreciated, but—"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" Varric asked, cutting her off. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." The two held each other's gaze for a few moments, before Cassandra made an honestly impressive noise of disgust and turned away.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions—"

"I heard." said Ravenor abruptly, swiveling back to the maybe-eldar. Solas couldn't see Ravenor's face, but he could apparently feel the suspicion the metal shell's occupant directed at him, and fell silent, looking slightly puzzled. They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds.

"We need to get moving." Cassandra said eventually, also looking somewhat confused by Ravenor's sudden brusqueness, but putting it aside. "We should head to the forward camp. Lelianna will be there." Ravenor assumed she was speaking about the red-haired woman who had come with her to his cell.

Cassandra stopped briefly to speak with the remaining Chantry soldiers in the courtyard, ordering them to fall back towards the village. Most of them were walking wounded, and would be little help in another fight. The four of them prepared what weapons they had and pushed forward.

=][=

As they pushed down into the valley, Ravenor saw that Varric had not been exaggerating. The only Chantry soldiers they came across after leaving the courtyard were dead ones, slashed open by razor sharp claws or burnt through with eldritch magic. There were, however, plenty of demons.

Varric's declaration of being needed seemed to be backed up by his skill. He was unerringly accurate with his massive crossbow, only missing once that Ravenor saw, at which point he loudly complained about Cassandra getting in the way of his shot. The Seeker simply rolled her eyes and pushed forward.

Solas' method of combat though, was much more intriguing to Ravenor. He clearly used the staff he carried to channel power of some sort, hurling bolts of frost and freezing demons solid, but as far as Ravenor could tell, he was not a psyker. Solas was still reaching beyond the physical plane to pull power and reshape small portions of reality, the same way most psykers made use of their powers. However, Ravenor was sure that where the robed man was pulling his power from was not the Warp.

Ravenor knew what it felt like when a psyker manipulated the immaterium, and it was not what Solas was doing. Ravenor took the risk of extending his mind-sight out as they fought. When Solas next readied to throw an attack, Ravenor focused on the energy that surged through him.

It was not the power of the warp but it had a certain… familiarity. It was still chaotic whirling energy, abstract and formless until it was given shape and direction by its summoner. But it lacked something of the Empyrean that Ravenor knew. There was no howl of the incomprehensible currents of the Warp, no pressing, wriggling feeling of possible mutation. Ravenor wouldn't go so far as to call the energy Solas was wielding peaceful… but Ravenor would take it over the Warp he knew any day.

As they pushed further through the valley, demons fighting tooth and nail to kill them all the while, they passed a row of small cabins, tucked away in the shadows of the rocky hills behind them. One was half consumed by a roaring fire, the others were still as a grave.

Cassandra started to push past them, gaze set on the Breach in the distance, but Varric tried to bring the impromptu party to a halt. "We should check them," he said. "There might be survivors."

Cassandra shook her head. "I'm sorry Varric," she said, looking genuinely so. "But there's no time. The longer we take, the more demons that show up. We can't risk being overrun." As it to punctuate her point another of the glowing green meteors that bore the creatures from the Breach struck ground just over the nearby hill, a few hundred meters from them.

As the two quickly descended into arguing over whether or not it was worth it to stop and search, Ravenor spread his mental sight wide, searching for any presence within the buildings. He found Cassandra nor Varric seemed to feel the use of his power, but at Ravenor's side, he saw Solas' lip quirk just the slightest bit. So either he is psychically sensitive, or more likely, 'mages' can feel my power the way I feel theirs.

"No one is there." Ravenor interrupted the two, the volume of his voice raised slightly to be heard. "Anyone in those houses has either escaped or died."

"How do you—" Varric started to ask, before Ravenor cut him off impatiently.

"Magic." he said, feeling it was the simplest explanation for the moment. His chair's pict-corders let him see Solas raise a questioning eyebrow off to his left. He obviously knew, or at least suspected, that Ravenor wasn't telling the whole truth. "We must keep moving. Before this abominable mark pulses strongly enough to kill me." He hoped that a bit of urgency leaked into his metallic voice, but he knew from experience that it was unlikely.

They continued in silence for a time, eventually finding a passable slope that Cassandra said would lead towards the forward camp. As they started trudging up—floating, in Ravenor's case—Varric spoke up, perhaps just to break the quiet. "You know, a lot of people think that you're responsible for the temple getting leveled." he said.

"I've been told." Ravenor said, thinking back to the accusing and fearful stares from the villagers Cassandra had led him past. He was no stranger to the latter.

Varric was silent for a moment after Ravenor answered, as if expecting him to say more. When he didn't, Varric prompted him further. "And?"

"And what?"

"Oh for—" Varric let out a sigh as he climbed over a snowbank. "Are you innocent?"

Ravenor rotated to face him without breaking his pace, leaning his chair to the side a little, like a normal man would tilt their head if confused by something.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

=][=

Their trek soon finally came to an end, reaching another large stone bridge, guarded on both sides by fortifications, which Cassandra identified as the location of the forward camp. There was also another cracking Fade Rift ten meters from the door, demons circling around it looking for prey, or clawing at the thick wooden gate to the bridge. Occasionally Chantry defenders would appear on top of the battlements to fire projectiles down on the besiegers, but were quickly forced to take cover by a group of wraiths, as Solas had referred to the spectral green creatures, hurling their bolts of energy.

Cassandra had her sword out and looked ready to charge, anger written clearly on her face. Ravenor reached out with a nudge of psychic force at her cauldron to stop her.

She turned to glare at him. "Must you do it like that?" she asked in annoyance, voice dropped to a whisper.

"With what else? My hands?" he replied, vox-voice dropped similarly low to avoid detection. For once, it sounded exactly like he meant his words. "We need a plan. If more come through the rift in the middle of a fight, we could be overwhelmed." A slight bit of embarrassment flickered across Cassandra's scarred face, before her usual stern expression returned. She nodded at Ravenor's words. He could see that she had been about to act on her first instinct; she had seen her soldiers in danger and wanted to rush to help them. Commendable, but a moment of patience seemed best to Ravenor.

"I believe I may have a solution." said Solas quietly from behind them. They both turned to face him. He had been fairly quiet on their trip through the valley. Ravenor got the impression the robed man wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. He continued. "Even though they have made it through to our world, the demon's are still creatures of the Fade. They respond to its energy." he turned to look directly at Ravenor's chair. "Your mark, whatever else it is, is linked to the Fade. If you could force it to pulse, you could draw them to us…"

"Perfect for an ambush." said Ravenor, seeing the merit of the suggestion. He turned to Varric, the small man fiddling with the loading mechanism of his crossbow. "Varric, how would you like a perfect kill zone?"

That brought a grin to his face. "I would like that very much. Bianca would like it even more." he said, cocking the crossbow.

A few minutes later their trap was set. Ravenor sat halfway down the hill leading up the the area with the rift. Varric was beside him, crossbow carefully zeroed in at the crest of the hill. Solas and Cassandra were a bit further up, similarly prepared. At a nod from the Seeker, Ravenor focused inward, trying to spark the power of the mark. It came worryingly easily, feeling barely contained as it was, like a pool of oil just waiting for the smallest spark to set it alight.

The effect was immediate, the sounds of demons striking at the gate stopping. After a moment of silence, they all heard the sounds of demons snarling and clawing their way towards the flash of energy that had suddenly appeared to their senses. Fighting up a hill was usually not considered an advantageous position, but Ravenor was confident that their ambush would compensate.

The head of a shade appeared over the crest of the hill, and promptly disappeared as a perfectly placed crossbow bolt from Varric pierced its misshapen head. Its corpse was shoved aside by the next demons, now pouring over the top of the hill like a flood. And all perfectly shoved together.

As Varric unloaded his weapon into the crowd of demons as fast as its mechanisms would cycle, Solas' staff flashed with blue and white light, and he hurled a blast of frost and rime into the center of the enemy crowd. It detonated on contact, covering the entire group of demons in magical ice, leaving them stuck just barely over the hill.

After that it was nothing less than a slaughter. Varric might have well been in a shooting gallery, and he took full advantage, putting bolt after bolt through the heads of demons. Ravenor and Solas let loose with psy-power and magic respectively, hurling blasts of telekinetic force and ice magic into the pinned group, shattering and killing.

The wraiths attempted to hurl bolts of energy over their allies, but their vision was blocked by the pile of frozen and dying shades, their shots falling short or going wide. Ravenor heard the thwack of bows being loosed from over the hill, and the energy blasts stopped a few moments later, the gate's defenders having apparently taken the chance for vengeance.

Only one shade managed to pull itself free of the slaughter, stumbling half frozen down the hill. It was promptly cut down by Cassandra. After that, it was a simple matter of Ravenor rushing to the rift. Just like before, with a little focus, a beam of light and power shot out from his chair, and the rift was forced close.

The rest joined him a moment later, Cassandra glancing back at the pile of dissolving demon bodies. "If we live through this, remind me to requisition a bow from the armory." she muttered, walking briskly towards the Gate.

"A ranged weapon as a backup would be prudent." agreed Ravenor, floating closely behind her. "If we live."

At Cassandra's shout that the rift was closed, the heavy wooden doors of the gate slowly creaked open. The bridge beyond was filled with Chantry soldiers, either manning defenses or tending to injuries.

As Cassandra led the group down the bridge, Ravenor could feel the eyes of many of the defenders on him. At a glance around, he saw plenty of confusion at his strange appearance, but much less hostility than from the people back at the village. Some even looked relieved, no doubt at finally having a method to close the rifts that would otherwise endlessly spew demons.

Towards the end of the bridge two figures, a man and a woman, were arguing, standing over a small wooden table. As they got closer, Ravenor recognized the woman as Lelianna. The man he did not know, but he wore the same pattern of white and red robes as some of the others he had seen, though his were slightly more elaborate, with a mantle trimmed in gold. A senior priest perhaps? Ravenor thought.

The two stopped their argument as Ravenor and Cassandra approached, Lelianna looking at them with relief, the man less so.

"You made it!" the hooded woman said, then turned towards the man. "Chancellor Roderick, this is—"

"I know what that is." he interrupted, looking at Ravenor's chair with undisguised hostility for a moment, before shifting to address Cassandra. "Seeker, as Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you to take this thing into custody, to be brought back to Val Royeaux to face execution!" Roderick said, adopting a tone of authority.

Ravenor was considering his potential options for an escape when Cassandra took a step forward, anger blazing in her eyes. "Order me?" she said, as if the very thought offended her. "You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!"

Oh no. thought Ravenor. This man wasn't a priest. He was far worse. He was a paper-pusher.

"And you are a thug." the chancellor said, returning Cassandra's indignation with plenty of his own. "But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry."

"Does he actually have any authority here?" Ravenor asked Cassandra, ignoring a glare from Roderick.

"Not nearly as much as he seems to believe." said Cassandra hotly.

"There is no one else!" Roderick argued. "Justinia is dead, as are all the Grand Clerics she brought with her." Ravenor could have sworn that he saw a tremble run through Cassandra at the mention of this 'Justinia'.

Roderick leaned forward on the table, and for a moment all his bluster fell away, and he was just a tired old man who had seen more death in one day than most did in a lifetime. "Call the retreat Seeker." he said, his voice suddenly quiet. "Our position here is hopeless."

Cassandra leaned forward a bit, her voice dropping a bit as well. "The Breach is the key to all of this." she said. "If his mark can close it, we can end this."

"How? The approach to the temple is swarming with demons and rifts. You won't make it, even with all of your soldiers." the Chancellor said.

"We could send our soldiers here forward as a distraction," suggested Lelianna. "While we send Cassandra and him around through the mountains."

Cassandra shook her head. "It's not safe. We lost contact with an entire squad on that path."

"And I'm afraid that any steep climbing will be slow and difficult for me." Ravenor told them.

"Then our only recourse is an all out charge," said Cassandra. "It will be bloody."

"Perhaps not." said Ravenor, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. He was somewhat hesitant to offer this strategy, only just gotten a handle on using his powers near the Breach, but it might be what made this all work. "I can attempt to shield our force with my powers for the advance. I cannot promise it will be impregnable, but it should stop the worst of it."

Solas, previously hanging back with Varric, stepped forward at that, addressing Ravenor. "You understand that you are talking about shielding at least two dozen people for several minutes at the quickest, yes?"

"I am." Ravenor replied. Solas looked at him thoughtfully, like he was trying to solve a puzzle that wouldn't quite fit together.

"That would be quite a feat, for any ordinary mage to effectively shield so many people at once." he said carefully.

"Would it now?" Ravenor said. Any follow up from Solas was cut off by the Breach overhead expanding again in a pulse of green light, sending Ravenor's mark sparking. It drew a renewed glare of suspicion from Roderick.

Once the accompanying burst of pain ended, Ravenor composed himself and swiveled to Cassandra. "The mark is getting worse, and I wager so is the Breach. It's now or never."

She hesitated for a split-second, but then her face set in determination. She turned to Lelianna. "Get Commander Cullen. Tell him to bring every soldier he can scrape up. We do this now, and hope the Maker is with us."