1 :: The Breach Between
The icy, pressing tension filled her chest as she looked down upon the breach in the canyon, surrounded by the Darkspawn, black hellish creatures covered in stark white bone and veins like the Red Lyrium which fueled their endless and ravenous hunger for blood and life. Too many times she had lost sight of what was important. And now, at the moment in which all hope had been within reach, a peaceful end to the war that had long since ravaged the landscape, she stood there, burned and battered and broken, unable to save her…the breach had torn its savage way through the canyon deep and consumed everything in its path. The clawing, icy green fire of the Rift's explosion spread, tearing and ripping reality apart everywhere it touched. After what seemed like an eternity to those still alive, it ceased its ravenous spreading, filling the air with a final ear-splitting scream of a thousand souls torturously shredded apart. It then seemed to pull inward on itself, as if a massive force was sucking it up from the crown and throne of the Divine herself, swallowing her in a blinding flash as everyone, including Cassandra, had been blasted back from the force of the gale winds as the implosion occurred.
"Cassandra…" A soft, feminine voice called, some way behind her. A slender and lithe hooded woman, cloaked in grey robes and chainmail, came to stand next to her. "The prisoner is showing signs of consciousness."
"Let us go, Leliana." Cassandra replied, turning and walking briskly back to the hold, one hand remaining on her sword hilt as she went, giving no other reply to Leliana, who followed silently in her wake.
A loud and thundering clang! sounded, echoing through a chamber deep within a dungeon. The jarring, metallic sound reverberated inside the head of a petite woman kneeling in the center of the room, making an already growing migraine worse. Squinting and blinking her brilliant green eyes, she stared for a moment at the heavy metal shackles encasing her pale wrists. The weight of the solid metal alone was enough, in her muddled state, to hold down her arms.
Looking up, she found herself in the center of a dirty and musty room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of rough-hewn stone bricks and supported with thick wooden pillars. At the entrance to what she could only imagine was her prison cell, thick iron bars reinforced the wall in a grid-like pattern. Straw lay scattered around one end and small, lit braziers and torches hung along the edges, giving off only a minimal amount of light. Surrounding her were a dozen people, all wearing plate armour and pointing longswords at her, each at the ready to strike if needed.
Looking down at her clothes, she wore a long-sleeved white blouse, ripped and torn to near shreds on her arms and shoulders, some edged with burned material. A once tight-fitting corset of deep green, nearly black, hung loosely from her midsection, its snaps and ties burned and broken, with straps hanging limp from her shoulders. The olive-green skirt she wore was in a similar state of wear, all of which amounted to no heat as the cold and dampness of her surroundings began to set in, enforcing the headache and the fog which had settled on her mind.
She looked up, ready to speak, but, just as she was about to, pain seared through her body, electric shocks and flames wrapped around her body, starting at her right hand, enveloping her momentarily in an icy green buzzing light. For a few moments, it felt as though her world was being ripped and torn apart, as though everything inside her was being simultaneously burned and flash-frozen.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, leaving her panting and gasping for air in the wake of it. The sudden sound of a heavy metal door being thrown open and heavy metallic footsteps, quick and purposeful, made her look up from her now hunched over position.
"Tell me why we shouldn't just kill you now." A firm and heavily accented female voice said, the sneering disgust as apparent in her voice as it was in her face. The woman who stood before her was intimidating. Her militant stature kept her back straight and feet positioned to move in any direction in a moment's notice. Her short black hair was cropped close, not much longer than most men's and accented her weather-worn and scarred face, the most noticeable feature of which was the long and deep scar that ran from her chin to her left cheekbone. She was clad in plate metal armour, the chest of it bearing a large symbol like an eye in front of a sunburst.
Behind her was a smaller, much more petite woman, wearing long, chainmail backed grey robes with a hood up. Her face was narrow, and her long strawberry-blonde hair made her blue eyes stand out as she studied both her companion and her silently. The freckles and light coloured skin gave her an appearance of innocence, though the air around her was filled with a deadly caution.
The silence was unlike anything she had felt before, or rather, it didn't feel familiar to her, seeing as she couldn't seem to remember anything. It was a pressing, weighty silence that stifled everything in the room. The attention of everyone was on her now, and she felt it like each stare brought thousands of needle-point shocks to her system. Shaking her head slightly to ward off the sudden questions in her mind about why she knew what it felt like to have shocks run through her, she gave a bright, close-eyed smile towards her new companions and tilted her head to one side as she spoke, her voice perhaps a bit more chipper than it should have been, given the state of her situation, "Sal-u-tations!"
No one moved, and those surrounding her gave hurried, panicked glances towards the militant woman before her and the smaller one behind her gave a look of astonishment towards her, eyebrows raised and a surprised, very faint smirk crossed her features for a split moment.
"The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead…Except for you." The first woman spoke, her accented voice sending chills down her spine from the thinly veiled anger and seething hatred, a snarl plastered on her face from the cheerful greeting she had been given.
Her mind spun as she tried to remember anything from the event. The fog and migraine grew worse as she tried to recall anything that would serve as even a sliver of a memory. The room started to spin as she fought the fog and pain to no avail. She could barely even catch the woman's words as she spoke, her mind trying to piece together what was being said.
"Wait…that's…no." She shook her head in disbelief as she finally understood. "What-what do you mean everyone's dead?" Her heart ached at the notion, at the implication that she was the reason everyone had died. Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, burning with intensity as some feeling washed over, some sense of a before. She suddenly had the feeling that she was the cause of death and suffering. That she had the chance to save those closest to her, and failed. But the feeling was fleeting, vaporizing in her mind the more she tried to understand it.
"Explain this." The dark-haired woman said, grabbing her arm roughly and holding it up, the green electric-like fire sparking and hissing to life, burning her and making her cry out in pain even after her arm was shoved and let go of, the woman shaking her head as she paced away from her.
"There must be a misunderstanding," She said, her chest filling with raw emotion as the confusion set in again, shaking her head and trying to remember anything. "I-I don't know what that is, or how it got there. Please, I don't remember any-"
"A misunderstanding?! You're lying!" The woman roared, lunging at her with vicious and deadly intent, hand moving to the long sword at her side, ready to draw it.
For a split second, things seemed to stop in time, and she saw not the armour-clad woman before her, but a thin and petite young adult, hair as white as freshly fallen snow and a dress to match with icy, steel-blue eyes and a rapier instead of a longsword. But when she blinked, time moved again, and she was back in the chamber and shackles, with the woman bearing down on her.
The other woman moved quickly, intercepting her and forcing her back with a hand to the chest as she blocked her view. "We need her, Cassandra."
These words and the action seemed to frustrate the dark-haired Cassandra further and she let out a growling snort and turned away, armoured hand running through her hair as she paced. The hooded woman then turned and studied her, staring into her green eyes intensely.
"What is your name?" She asked, her voice cautious, but calm and gentle as she spoke, crouching down in front of her. She had the sudden inkling that this woman was used to interrogating others, and very good at getting answers.
Thinking for a moment, and looking down at her shackled hands, a name floated in her mind, sure and certain, Penny. Whether or not this name was hers, she could not tell, but it was a name. And, even if she couldn't recall anyone using that name to describe her or call out to her, she was certain that it seemed to fit her nicely. "Penny!" Her voice seemed chipper and certain, a bright smile accentuating the word, giving her voice a light and lilting accent.
The woman nodded her head in understanding, another small smile crossing her features in response to the bright smile from Penny. "My name is Leliana, and that woman," she said, indicating Cassandra, who was still pacing in frustration, though seemed to be calming down, "is Cassandra. Do you remember what happened? How this began?"
"All those people…dead." Penny replied, shaking her head as the immense and pressing weight of guilt and sadness washed over her again. "I…remember running." Sudden flashes of memories swept through her mind, jumbled and distorted and dull, like distant pieces of a story that wasn't hers. "These…things…were chasing me. Dark and terrifying creatures like nightmares…and then…a woman?" The last part was less statement and more question as Penny tilted her head to one side. This was the only part of what she said that she was certain of. She knew there had been a woman. It was as clear as the pain from the strange green fire.
"A woman?" Leliana repeated, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms and studied Penny intently.
"Yes, she…she reached out to me, but then…" Penny shook her head. The memory vanished like a whisper on the wind, and she was left with more questions than answers again as no more memories remained.
With a deep sigh, Cassandra spoke up, waving a hand towards the door, "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift." Her voice was far more calm and collected than Penny had yet to hear it. She had lost all her former sneering and disgusted demeanor, seeming resigned about something.
Penny shook her head, confused as she again tried to push against the fog in her mind to remember anything. Forward camp? Rift? Were these things she was supposed to know about? Were these people ones she was supposed to be familiar with? They didn't seem to know her in the slightest. And yet, they seemed to be of higher status, walking and talking with practiced authority. And what was this conclave they spoke of? Just who was she?
Cassandra approached her, unlocking the chain bindings that held her to the floor and helped her up. Gone was the rough handling and force, replaced with a calm resignation as she silently helped Penny.
"What did happen…?" Penny asked, looking into Cassandra's amber coloured eyes.
With a deep and saddened look, lips pursing, Cassandra replied, "It… it will be easier to show you." She then turned and motioned for Penny to go towards the door of the chamber, indicating she would be directly behind her every step of the way.