SERENA
No news is good news. That's what they say, right?
Or that's what I try to tell myself, as I fidget incessantly in my seat, inside Hawke's main foyer.
Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana fuss over cleaning tasks on the opposite side of the room, passing brooms, dusters, and rags to one another, whenever needed. Meanwhile, Leandra's locked herself in her quarters upstairs for the past two hours now, insisting she needed some 'private time' to take a bath. Although, it's not like I would've tried to stop her without the assertion.
I would've welcomed the break. Creators, she's been attached to my side all day! Even before Hawke first left! Thrusting me from one 'feminine' hobby to the next.
Had I known her absence would just leave me to my thoughts though, like this, I might've reconsidered. Perhaps even begged.
How much more time do Hawke and the others need to report back to Emeric anyways?
They've been gone ages now. It doesn't take that long to go to the Gallows and back!
Dread sinks into the pit of my stomach at the thought, the tension slowly branching out, filling my veins.
. . . Could something have happened to them? Could they be in danger?
I gulp down a hard lump in my throat.
No. Stop. Why am I so anxious? Hawke could've just gotten distracted. He does that. A lot. And he wouldn't leave me stuck here with his mother any longer than necessary. I need to trust him. Trust them. They'll be alright. They're fine!
I stop my blasted leg bouncing and slump further into my seat. But the nagging doubt remains—skulking in the far corners of my mind.
I recall the weird vision of 'Leandra' again amid the sudden stillness. The absurd paleness of her skin. The horrific zig-zag stitches circling her limbs. And then, that mysterious robed figure, that approached her from behind.
If only I could see their face, see where they were located, what they were doing, then I'd . . .
"Bah. Why am I still thinking about this?" I put one hand over my eyes.
It was just a dream! A figment of the imagination, spurred on by collapse!
And even if it wasn't, the visions don't always come true! They don't. So, stop worrying about it! If something really does come from them, I need to focus to protect her. Worrying about it now won't do us any good.
I sigh and, bending sideways, prop my head on top of Hawke's letter table. Exhaustion racks through me, draining every ounce of energy I might've stored within.
Maybe I should just take a nap?
Go to sleep and drown it all out?
The idea's tempting. More so than it should be. But before I can ponder the option further, a loud knock raps at the estate's front door.
"Oh! That must be for me," Leandra peeks out of her room, hurrying down the stairs.
She's more dolled up than usual, sporting a glamorous purple, silk dress with gold trim and an elegant, braided updo fit for a noble's soiree.
"Where are you heading off to so dressed up?" I ask, with a bit of tease.
Leandra all but skips to a halt in front of a nearby foyer mirror to glimpse herself over. "If you must know, a date." She smiles back at me.
"A date?" I raise an eyebrow at the older woman.
That's unexpected. I didn't even know she was courting anyone . . . Do Hawke and Bethany know?
"Ah, yes! Those white lilies your suitor sent this morning were quite lovely, if I do say myself," Bodahn adds with his typical, lilted cheer. "He might be a keeper!"
"White lilies?" I fixate on the sweeping dwarf.
Didn't Hawke mention the victims receiving white lilies before being taken?
The vision of 'Leandra' repeats again in my head, this time faster and with more force than the others.
A foreboding sense of fear fills me to the brim.
I jump up and race to the front door, throwing it wide open.
An older shem with slicked-back, grey hair and a long, silver robe awaits. He looks up at me with a cold, narrowing glance, and the moment we make eye contact, my whole body freezes. The familiar tug I feel in the back of my head during a fit returns.
The vision of 'Leandra' repeats again, this time clearer, with more detail. I see the man standing before me now suffocate and dissect Ninette, knock out and restrain Leandra. All in an effort to . . . to . . .
"No . . . You . . . You're the one—" I stop myself and quickly retreat a few steps back, drawing my daggers from the belt around my waist. "Bodahn, get Leandra and the others out of here! Now!" I yell. "Go find Hawke!"
"But—"
"No buts!" I glare back at the gawking dwarves. "Just do it!"
"What is the meaning of this?" Leandra snaps, scowling at me, as Bodahn and Sandal pull her by the arms.
"I think your 'date' knows the exact meaning of this. Right, murderer?" I glower at the shem.
The man juts his chin up with an intimidating frown. "You know a great deal." He struts into the house, shutting the door behind him. "But will it save you, I wonder?"
Without another bit of warning, he thrusts his hands out in front of him, hitting me with a powerful mind blast spell. I fly backwards, the air knocked out of me, as I hit the ground hard and skid across the central foyer.
I come to an abrupt halt in front of Hawke's letter table. Bodahn, Leandra, Orana, and Sandal all gasp and look over at me, their eyes widening, filling with concern.
"Go! Don't worry about me! Get Hawke!" I shout and jump back onto my feet.
Ghostly whispers echo in my ears now. Clawing at my consciousness. Increasing the already growing ache throbbing in the back of my head. Their pleas lost to merged incoherence.
Bodahn and the others sneak out through the kitchen door to my right, in the direction of the back exit. The mage notices and tries to go after them, but I lunge forward to stab him. He dodges my first and second attempts with quick, lucky stumbles, but fails to avoid my third. My left dagger lacerates his left side, carving a deep gash along his upper chest.
He sucks in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth. "You'll regret standing in my way, wretch!" he yells, and with a fast, upward, arm-sweeping motion, he summons a group of shades from the ground around me.
My eyes widen.
Shit.
The shades claws descend on me from every direction, their onslaught ferocious, continuous, fueled by a vengeful fury.
I try my best to dodge them all, to lash out whenever I can—achieving even a few momentary successes. But there's just too many.
One shade hits me with a fierce slash across my right shoulder, tearing through flesh and armor.
The burning pain's instant. Agonizing.
I hunch over with a high-pitched yelp.
Another shade uses the opening to slide over, and backhands me so hard, I crash into a nearby potted plant by the stairs. The pot shatters under my weight, its pieces piercing through and scratching at any exposed skin.
"Fenedhis," I curse, reaching up to grasp the searing shoulder wound, the smaller cuts and scratches less of a priority. Warm blood seeps through my fingertips and trails down both my arms.
The shades close in on me again, their glowing purple eyes beaming like demonic beacons in a hopeless ocean storm. The mage leans against the wall behind them, casting a quiet healing spell on himself. He'll no doubt finish healing soon, back to full health.
Leaving me with no choice.
I have to use it—my magic. There's no other way. He can't escape.
With a burst of raw determination, I cast my first tempest spell in years. The first since the blight. Blue and purple lightning bolts fill the foyer, striking down at the mage and shades, tingling through my veins. The mage collapses, unconscious. Perhaps even dead. I don't know. I don't care. So long as he doesn't move anymore.
The shades start to crumble under the heavy onslaught as well, halting their advance. But not enough to send them away forever.
I fight to keep the mana flowing through me, to strike them all down, purging it from my body like a long-forgotten stream. The magic prickling across my skin like jolts of electricity.
The whispers in my head grow louder.
The tugging in my head: stronger.
My consciousness slowly fades. Everything blurs. My heart races. Reality becomes harder and harder to grip onto. But I won't give up. I can't. Not if I want myself and the others to live. They're depending on me, and I can't let them down now.
Hawke . . . please come quickly . . .
HAWKE
"Well, shit. That was a mess," Varric says, as our group re-enters the heart of Lowtown.
"That is an understatement," Fenris grumbles with a bit more bite than usual.
But I suppose it's warranted. We did just finish battling a horde of rage demons and shades, who we presume cornered and murdered Emeric, for reaching too close to the investigation's truth.
The young templar, Moira, arrived shortly after the struggle. And upon taking in the entirety of the gruesome sight, and the magnitude of its implications, swore she'd ensure Gascard wouldn't leave Darktown alive. Something we all agreed on for once. Even Anders.
"Let's hope the city guard can still find the rat in Darktown," Varric continues with a sigh.
"If not, I say we personally sic the corterie out on him," I offer.
It'd be well deserved, if we did. Since now I'm pretty sure he lied to us all about this slaughtered sister of his. The timing and method of this murder is just too much to be coincidence.
Varric grins. "Sounds like a plan to me," he says.
The four of us round the next corner, in the direction of the Hanged Man. When we're within a few feet of the tavern's entrance, rushed footsteps echo throughout the adjacent marketplace.
"Garrett!" A familiar woman's voice calls out from the same direction.
I turn to see Mother, Bodahn, Orana, and Sandal scurrying toward us, up the neighboring marketplace's steps. All of them are panting and covered in sweat. Their expressions contorted into a mixture of fear, panic, and dread.
"Mother? Bodahn? What's wrong? What are you all doing in Lowtown? At this hour?"
"Serena! Serena's in trouble!" Mother gasps, grabbing onto my arms. "Please, you must help her! The estate, it's under attack!"
My heart sinks.
No.
"Bodahn, take Mother and the others into the Hanged Man. Don't let them out of your sight!" I sprint in the direction of Hightown.
"Of course, Messere," Bodahn calls back.
But his words are lost to the wind, drowned out by our group's hurried dash.
