'You have to wake up. You have to wake up, and soon. It isn't just you either, everyone needs to awaken or we all die.'
Kneeling on the harsh stone floor of a cell, he warily looked at the four guards who held him at sword point. He had woken in this dark damp place, shackled and resting on his knees. No one would speak to him and he too unsure whether or not to say anything himself. He had woken from a restless sleep several hours ago with a twinge of pain from his left hand, a flash of bright green light from his palm that had his heart racing with so many emotions he didn't have time to sort through and a lingering image in his mind that left him asking more and more questions.
He had seen a pair of mismatched eyes. The rest of the face had been so blurry, but that one detail had staggered him. A set of eyes he felt like he should and could know anywhere. Names on the tip of his tongue but never forthcoming. It was maddening. His eyes burned and wanted nothing but to slide into sleep once again.
Minutes ticked by and he could have sworn he was about to slip back into sleep when faintly, he could hear the sorrow filled strand of a harp notes making him straighten and look around, hoping to see where the sound had come from. But instead of an instrument, he was met with the sounds of swords being drawn again. Slouching back on his knees, he tried to pinpoint the place he had heard those notes but, in this cell, he doubted there would be any room close by where those notes could be found.
Yet, the sounded so sad...
A stabbing pain rang from his hand up his arm and into his jaw making him cry out as a flash of green light filled the room while a different vision filled his mind. Gasping, he slouched forward as the image passed as quickly as it came. Arrows; with vivid red feathers. They were always accompanied by a blur of white…
The recollection had his body tightening.
Why did he know that? How did he know that? What did it mean? He asked internal questions like these for hours. And the images were always different, but lingered in his mind. Some came in pairs, some singular and longer lasting. He had turned to ask one of the guards what was going on when another flash of green and pain wracked his body. And like the last one it came with another image. This broader... More worrying.
Blood-soaked dirt that surrounded bodies all around him. Some more obscured by a thin layer of fog that clung in some places... It made him sick. Looking to his right, he eyes caught on a pair of bandaged bloody knuckles, dark blood dripping from the fingertips… Looking up towards the arms, they led to a body completely hidden by the mist.
The fog thickened until he found himself coughing, blinking furiously until his eyes rested on the stone before him again. That one kept him wide awake, worrying about who was hidden in the mist. The apprehension had him tapping his fingers on the shackles that continuously bit into his wrists. Outside he could barley hear the sounds of armoured footsteps, voices talking and some shouting.
Swallowing he shifted from side to side, his knees starting to ache, and another flash of green, this one duller than the last one and carried the gentle scent of chamomile for a moment rather than the damp scent of stone of his cell.
The one after that was short. A long silver pin with a detailed fox embedded. It was curious... Such a small thing that he knew he had held in his own hand, but the weight that had accompanied it… He let out a long breath and tried to center his mind. It helped, or so he liked to think.
The flashes had eased in the last hour, but the last one, this one pulled at him differently. It was the clearest mental picture out of all them. A gold horn, polished to a mirror sheen.
But what did they all mean?!
The thought was cut off by the sound of the door directly ahead of him swinging open, revealing two figures that strided in.
His thoughts accelerating inside his head, wishing them to slow their passing so he could breathe, linger over them and ponder but they won't. His breaths come in quiet gasps and for a suspended amount of time, he felt like he would black out again. Heart hammering inside his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin.
Following the figures as they walked into his cell, he swallowed and forced his body to try and still. Remain calm. One figure caught the light and his eyes focused on the tall woman with dark cropped hair, a slender singular braid wrapped around her head like a band, a scar across her cheek, but fierce eyes that made his breath catch.
The other hooded figure caught the light. Another woman, red hair that seemed to be cut in a bob at her shoulders. The image that caught his eyes rested on her chest and looked like a purple gemmed eye, a sword down the center. Interesting. The interest was short lived when the taller woman stepped around him in a circle.
"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." He blinked slowly as she spoke beside him. Her voice was husky, her Nevarran accent making his pointed ears twitch slightly but her tone was vengeful. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."
The woman peered down at him with a look that spoke of barely contained vengeance though her words landed in his chest. He wasn't prepared for the swift kick of grief that wracked his body and deep inside, something squeezed, held tight until his breath choked him. He said nothing, but tried to pinpoint why he felt the way he did, and yet as soon as it arrived, it dissipated, leaving him feeling numb, empty until she was grabbing one of his shackles, jerking him out of it.
"Explain this!" She demanded, her anger making him feeling uneasy. That was soon eclipsed by the flaring up of his left hand, the bright green of it leaving him terror-stricken. Dropping his arm, she straightened, her eyes not leaving him.
"All... those... people..." He managed to all but gasp out and felt only fear and a large stab of guilt. The Conclave. He lingered on that and felt the resurgence of those flinting memories, again so close and yet so far... His chest clenched again and found his body starting to shake. Looking up at the woman who was demanding answers from him he tried, but found no way. No memory came to him to even begin to explain... Looking to his hand, he had the urge to rub it with his other, to see if it could be wiped away. "I… can't." He swallowed after, looking up from his hand and to the woman with the scar across her cheek.
"What do you mean, you can't?" She echoed; her anger ringing so clear that he found himself leaning away as much as he physically could while he rested on his knees.
"I don't know what this is or how it got there." The hand in question trembled, the chains jingling gently.
"You're lying!" She advanced quickly as if to strike but hooded woman stops her with a firm grab to the arm.
"We need him, Cassandra." Her voice softer, like it could be used to sing. But that's not what caught him.
Cassandra. He looked to the strapping woman. A nice name for a woman who looked fit to kill him.
"I don't understand." He threw out to them both getting their attention back to him. "Whatever you think I did, I'm innocent." He watched them glance to eachother and then back to him. The hooded woman stepped forward, getting his attention.
"Do you remember what happened? How this began?"
He frowned in thought, and felt a cold chill run down his spine. He barley remembered anything... But... "I remember running. Things were chasing me. And then," a flash of light, a hand extended... "a woman?"
"A woman?" She echoed, crossing her arms. She looked as confused as he did, no doubt.
"She reached out to me, but then…" Damn it all, he let out a grunt as his head began to ache. Then nothing. Blank. Empty. He barley heard their footsteps as they walked away from him.
"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift." Cassandra spoke calmly. Lifting his head, he watched the two of them. So, the other was named Leliana. She in question turned and made her way out of the cell.
"What did happen?" He asked Cassandra as he looked from her to his hand.
Cassandra walked to him and with stronger hands then he would have guessed, pulled him to his feet. Her face just reached his collarbone. Looking downward, he noticed the large blade that hung on her waist as she made quick work replacing the manacles with rope.
"It will be easier to show you." She started pulling him out the same door as Leliana had taken. He was grateful for the stretching of his legs, his knees mostly.
Cool air met his dark skin and when the large wooden doors opened revealing the open space, he was momentarily blinded by the light. Lifting his hand to shield himself, he blinked several times and slowly looked to see where Cassandra had walked to. She stood, several feet away, her back to him and her head lifted upwards towards the sky. Following her line of sight, he found himself once again, being terrified to his core.
There was a jagged slash of emerald green in the sky. Large that flashes pure green light that casted a glow against the monochromatic background of the clouds around it.
"We call it the Breach." Cassandra spoke over her shoulder to him. He barely heard her over his heartbeat in his ears. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."
"An explosion can do that?" He asked, even though his mouth was dry.
"This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world." The Breach pulsed violently, the mark in his palm flaring up coincided, the pain ripping up his arm, through his torso and making his legs give out, bringing to the dirt. Gasping, he brought his hand to his body, almost like he was hoping to shield it away from the hole in the sky. The pain lessened but it did ache still. Looking at his hand and made a fist once, twice and was relieved when the pain subsided. Cassandra knelt by his side, her face a mixture of anger and maybe a little of sympathy. Being at this level did give him a clear view of her eyes though.
"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you." Whether she was saying it to make him afraid or being honest, he found himself believing her. It felt like it. Like it was sucking the life from him, one drag at a time. Maybe that's what they were. His life flashing before his eyes. He swallowed tightly. "It may be the key to stopping this but there isn't much time." Cassandra continued, drawing him back to what she was saying. Grinding his jaw, he met her steel blue eyes.
"You say it may be the key. To doing what?" He asked, his hand stretching out then back into a fist then back out.
"Closing the Breach. Whether that's possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours."
"So if I do what you want, will I live through it?" He found himself asking, the thought of dying not boding well with him. When she herself looked unsure, he didn't feel better.
"We have no way of knowing." That was all she offered.
"So I don't really have a choice about this." He threw back. She straightened up a little and met his eyes coldly.
"None of us has a choice." She returned making him feel a new kind of worse. They were no doubt dealing with these things just as he was. And if he was dying anyway... His eyes moved from hers to the jagged rip in the sky. He might as well see up close why he was and by what exactly.
"I understand." He spoke gently, accepting the fact. He watcher her brows raise.
"Then…?"
"I'll do what I can." He nodded and accepted her help when she pulled him to his feet and followed as she continued to escort him through the small town. The villagers who hadn't seemed to run or looked ready to fight scowled at him when he walked by... Cassandra had noticed and leaned in a little to speak to him when they reached a roughened path.
"They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."
'Call me Justinia.' The whisper of the words had him shake his head, and pressed onwards. Soldiers open the gate at the edge of the town.
"We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed." Cassandra pulls out a dagger, making him take a fearful step backwards. "There will be a trial. I can promise no more." Cassandra cut the ropes binding his hands, letting his rub at his wrists. Well, he supposed, if he didn't die, it was better than being bound. "Come. It is not far."
"Where are you taking me?" He asked as he twisted his hands around.
"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach."
"Tested?" He echoed as he followed as they came upon a bridge that is covered in rubble, crates, and a few people. As they approached the next gate, they passed by two guards at the first gate, three wounded soldiers resting against the stone railing on his left. A Chantry Brother reciting the Chant to a group of nine, a mix of nobles and soldiers by a quick glance... A soldier sitting in the fetal position and rocking on the left, within earshot of the Chant, four wounded soldiers resting on crates and on the ground, three on the left, one on the right. But what had him slowing down was the person in Chantry robes praying over a pile of six canvas-and-rope-wrapped corpses on the right.
Were they anyone he had known? The gut twisting fear he felt had him wincing slightly as Cassandra called out ahead of him.
"Open the gate! We are headed into the valley!" He followed, even though his feet dragged. The path turns to the left and goes up. His eyes lingered on the barrages ahead of him when three men run by, headed downhill. One shouts: "Maker, it's the end of the world!"
His breath wavered in his throat as his body began to tremble. There was so much to take in.
Corpses littered the ground, Mage and Templar alike. A wagon on fire burning bright against the snowy forests. He cast a glance to Cassandra. She hadn't said much, then again, he hadn't either. What could he say? His mouth was dry and his heart was racing in his chest.
Reaching the top of the hill, his left-hand flared up again, the bright green shocking his eyes as he gasps, pain wracking his body like a thousand knives, dropping him to his knees. Cassandra walked to him and helped him back onto his feet...
"The pulses are coming faster now." She slaps a hand on his shoulder, almost as if comforting him. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face." Looking to his hand, he could almost feel the rip in his palm spread, little by little. But the pain was astounding.
"How did I survive the blast?" He found himself asking looking at his palm as they continued on.
"They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you'll see soon enough."
He remembered seeing a woman illuminated somehow... He faintly remembered hitting the ground. Then it was back to the flashes of when he was in and out of consciousness.
Continuing on to the second bridge, they passed more bodies. Nine in total. None that he recognized. He shook his head. Would he even be able to if they were right in front of him?
"Has there been anyone else?" He asked. "Or just me that was found out of the rift?"
"No one else has been reported or seen. Just you." She explained as they reached the second bridge. Walking across he noticed there were five soldiers and a wagon at the other end.
As he and Cassandra crossed, a light caught his eyes that had him freezing and bracing himself as a green shard of the Breach fell and landed in the support column of the bridge. With a defining impact the bridge shook and soon collapses underneath them sending them rolling amongst the debris to the frozen river below. His horns connecting with the ice had him wincing, the feeling leaving him dizzy and for a second as he lifted himself from the ice, he thought he saw something move across it. It was for just a moment, but it had him blinking to clear his vision. Nothing but trees, and Cassandra who was picking herself and her shield from the ground. Swallowing tightly, he wiped his forearm against his cheek, frowning when it came away wet and red. A small cut, no doubt from some blowback from the debris from the blast.
Another large impact close by had the ground beneath them shaking as another spewed meteor smashed through the rock bed and into the frozen river a short distance in front of Cassandra. His hands shook when a pool of green light shifted and formed, like deformed crystals, shifting aggressively and out of the center of it was some creature that had him backing up a step. What in Andraste-
"Stay behind me!" Cassandra shouted as she drew her sword, her shield at the ready as she raced towards that... thing.
Cassandra attacks, her movements strong and sure. Feet from him, the ground turned dark, the green glow turning a putrid colour as another took form. His breath halted in his lungs as he stepped back when it rose from the ground. Its body... Looked skeletal, even robbed in its rags, its appendages looking like rotted flesh, its face distorted as a wrenched garbled cry left its large mouth. It slinked towards him; its claws raised to strike.
He backed away, the claws swinging wide several times. A swing he misgauged caught his ribs, stinging as blood spattered the ice below them. Turning to shield the wound from the damn thing, he noticed a broken box of weapons, the metal gleaming. Moving over, he grabbed himself a sword and shield, bringing the shield up taking another clawed swipe, the blow backing him up several steps. His foot caught the rubble from the bridge, twisting his ankle and putting him off balance for the double swipes made for him, knocking him backwards. Covering most of his body as best as he could with the shield, he felt his breath rush from his lungs as he felt jagged stone cut into his aching ribs when he fell back into the rubble. Enduring the attacks, he peered over his shield and when the creature brought both its arms back for a two-handed swing, he gripped his sword tightly and plunged in deeply in the creature's chest, earning a pain wrenched cry as it seemed to evaporate into a mixture of dark blood and a putrid green slime. Cassandra plunged her blade swiftly through the creature's neck and the same happened to it.
"It's over." He uttered, more so to himself than anything. Lifting himself from the wreckage, he gripped his sword and shield tightly, the feeling familiar and comforting. Looking over the means of defence, he found himself judging the materials. Simple, but it worked. Even if the shield was too light and the swords handle a little slender for his large hands... He had held better, Gods, better had been made for him. He almost gasped. The memory of receiving his custom sword and shield played in his mind.
He had entered his room where he had been staying dusting himself off as he started to undo his armour and caught the flicker of something. They had been resting on his bed. The gleam of the blade when it caught the light, the sound it made as it glided perfectly into it's sheathe. He remembered the comforting hefty weight of the shield as he picked it up, bouncing it slightly as he gripped the handle.
They had been a gift, he recalled, his chest expanding as he remembered. Made by-
"Drop your weapon. Now." Cassandra pointed her sword at him, drawing him out of the memory. His mind scrambled for it, for the name of who made his weapons yet, like smoke in the wind it slipped away. It irked him. Turning to face Cassandra, the creeping fearful feeling that had slipped away as he had been focused on that thought, came rushing back. Her face was stern, her body ready to continue fighting.
"A demon attacked me. What was I supposed to do?" He gestured to his ribs and was pleased when her eyes flickered to his injury.
"You don't need to fight." She returned as she glared up at him.
"Are you saying it won't happen again?" He threw back and was met by a calm stern wall. "If you're going to lead me through a demon-infested valley, you'll have to trust me."
"Give me one reason to trust you." She countered her eyes hardening.
He didn't even have to think about it. "Because my life is on the line." When she gave no inch, he found himself sighing. He dropped his sword onto the ice. "All right. Have it your way."
He heard her soft sigh. "Wait." He looked up from the shield to her face. Contemplative and resigned a little.
"I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless." She sheathed her sword. "Your life is threatened enough as it is and I should remember you did not attempt to run."
He nodded and picked up the sword, tying the sheath to his armour. Placing the shield on a buckle on his back, he followed when she began to continue leaving the ice. Climbing up she reached into a small pack and turned to him. "Take these potions. Maker knows what we will face."
Holding one up, he pushed away the urge to uncork the red bottle and bring it to his lips. He wasn't that badly injured and decided to save them for a more urgent injury.
They turned to the right and go up a small hill. There are more corpses but what makes him pause is a slender plant, it leaves and colour distinct.
Elfroot. Stepping over, he crouched down and reached for it before pausing as a flint of a memory entered in.
'If a small sample is needed, pinch off the new growth—the top leaves and flowers or buds. Larger application is to harvest the entire stem." He blinked as a sting in his temple pulsed. The voice soft and pleasant. "Having a good knife helps you to harvest the parts that you want, and to not harm the plant by pulling or tearing." He could almost see a set of small delicate fingers pointing at sections of the plant.
"Cassandra," he looked over his shoulder and saw her eyes widen as he held out his large hand. "May I borrow your knife?" He saw a moment of confusion pass over her face as she walked to him, reaching behind and pulling the small dagger out. "Thank you." He said over his shoulder as he cut the stem delicately. He almost could her a hum of approval but it was swiftly carried away on the crisp winds.
"Why didn't you just pull the whole plant?" She asked as he handed the blade back and pocketed the plant.
"I was told not to once. It also helps it grow again and faster." He explained slowly and followed her as they walked.
"Who told you this?" Cassandra asked as they crested the hill. He paused in thought, the irritation climbing higher again when a familiar throb began to pulse behind his eyes. No name came to mind, no face… He frowned.
"I don't... remember." He rubbed several fingers to his temple as several flashes of green appeared making more shades forming on the frozen river bed.
"If we flank them, we may gain an advantage." Cassandra called as she headed down to them.
It felt good to battle when he felt more prepared. The fear still clawed at his throat, making his attacks a little wild, but wielding his preferred weapon had him moving with better ease. Not much was said between them as they continued to run, fighting anything and everything in their path.
"We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting." She called as she picked up the pace. Following along, he could in fact hear it. The clamouring of blades, the shouts, the pained screams. The sound of magic being casted.
Magic? Mages? He grew apprehensive as they ran closer.
"Who's fighting?" He yelled a little to be heard amongst the battle.
"You'll see soon. We must help them."
Turning right at the top of the stairs, past the remains of the destroyed bridge with burning wagons, he caught sight of two figures down below. A mage, sending out spells with a favouring for ice to freeze the creature on the spot while the other, shorter than the mage, a dwarf with a crossbow. Dropping down from the wall, they joined the fighting. Dealing with so many but with the small group they had proved useful. Letting out a short calming breath when the battle died down, he walked over to Cassandra who looked to be talking to the mage. Looking over the mage, he felt a ningling at the back of his mind for a reason he didn't linger on but instead the jawbone of a creature that hung from a leather cord on his chest had his eyes lingering. Most mages carried amulets, pendants. Why would this one wear something such as-
"Quickly, before more come through!" The mage was a quick one as he grabbed his hand, and held it up to the rift. Like green lightning, a bolt of energy went from the rift to his palm. In a way that was foreign to him, he felt a weird sensation, like a thick cord wrap around his wrist and through the rift. It was an odd sensation, like when you fall asleep on your arm and lose sensation but still get the tingles. He felt lost for a second before a whisper of a voice entered in his mind making him gasp.
'Much sense to me… Sick of waiting... get some food…'
It went in and out, the voice. As if on instinct, he felt the end of the rifts rope go taunt and he pulled his arm back, pulling the cord with it and with a burst of energy, the rift closes with a loud cracking sound. He gasped, looking around. No one had spoken to him while he had his arm lifted... Who...? he turned to the mage, a dozen questions forming in his mind but the one he safely settled on fell from his lips.
"What did you do?" he asked looking up from his hand to the mage. Was it magic? He frowned. He didn't do magic. That wasn't possible...
The mage humbly bent his head as a hand lifted to his chest. "I did nothing. The credit is yours."
"You mean this." He lifted his hand and glared at his palm. "At least this is good for something." His hand clenched tightly, dropping to his side as the tingling sensation ebbed away. "But how did I do it?" He asked. It just had happened. He didn't even understand it himself. The mage looked from his hand to his face who regarded him coolly.
"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."
"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra added as she stepped forward.
"Possibly." He slightly shrugged and then looked back up to him. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation.
Sal-Fucking-Vation.
He was almost lightheaded at the weight that he felt just landed on his shoulders.
"Good to know!" A more upbeat voice drew his attention behind him as the dwarf stepped forward. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." He looked at him as he walked closer. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." He directed a wink at Cassandra who's face shifts into a disgusted scowl. Why was a dwarf here? He hadn't seen any for some time, since they never came to the surface.
"Are you with the Chantry, or…?" He trailed off when the mage chuckled.
"Was that a serious question?" He met the mages eyes and lingered. Something about him was tugging at his mind, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
Varric pulled at his shirt cuffs. "Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you."
"Makes sense." He nodded when all eyes turned to him. "Not many dwarfs around these parts." He stated and got an amused look from the dwarf.
"Or Qunari for that matter." Varric returned and he almost smiled.
"Indeed. It's good to meet you, Varric." He bent his head slightly in greeting. The mage looked amused at the two of them.
"You may reconsider that stance, in time."
Varric laid a hand over his chest, like he was mocking being hurt. "Aww. I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles."
"I have friends." He snapped out a little more harshly then intended. The three of them looked to him and he felt their scrutiny.
"Oh yeah? Are they around?" Varric asked, seeming genuine where Cassandra looked ready to pounce if he said the wrong thing.
"I don't remember anything, let alone remember if they were or are, around." He looked away and his eyes settled on a corpse not far from him and felt another stab to his chest. "Or alive." He choked out.
"If you can't remember, are you sure you can't afford a few more?"
Fisting his hands tightly he looked between them all again. "I just do. And I'm not replacing them." He turned his attention to Cassandra. "I closed the rift. What now?" His question for a second, didn't go answered. They seemed to linger over his words before Cassandra spoke up.
"Now we go to meet Leliana."
"What a great idea." Varric chimed in earning another sneer from Cassandra. They started into what seemed like a disagreement but he found himself staring off into nothing when the mage stepped up to him.
"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." He touched his chest and bowed a little. Shaved head, pale cream coloured skin, pointed ears. An elf. Huh. He watched Solas warily and watched the elf's brow tilt downward slightly in concern. "Something on your mind?"
"I'm sorry. Its just... You remind me of... something..." He frowned at his own admittance.
"I hope it's a positive reminder."
"It might be." He stated plainly.
"Well, in any case, I'm pleased to see you still live."
Varric and Cassandra seemingly done with their disagreement are focused back on their conversation.
"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"
"Thank you." He meant it, even as he looked to his left hand that flickered now and again with pulses of green. "How- You know about the mark?" He held up his palm in question. "You seem to know a great deal about it all."
Cassandra stepped forward and gestured to the mage. "Solas is well-versed in such matters. This is due to him being-"
"An apostate." He finished along with Cassandra. Snapping his fingers, he gestures to the whole outfit. "The clothes..." That's what caught him.
Solas looked to Cassandra and explained. "Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." He looked back up at him. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin."
"Well, I'm just trying to get through this alive, but if I can close the Breach, I will." His moved from Cassandra who nodded in thanks back to the Solas. "What will you do once this is all over?"
"One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not." He turned to look at Cassandra again. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."
Cassandra was thoughtful a slight moment before she nodded. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly." She continued on, Solas following closely behind.
"Well, Bianca's excited!" He started after them both, leaving him to watch the dwarf follow with confusion.
Who's Bianca? He shook the thought away and continued after them.
"This way, down the bank. The road ahead is blocked."
"We must move quickly." Solas called after her as they hurried along. Running behind, he found himself glancing to his clench hand, the glow more subdued. Opening it slightly and re-clenching he looked upwards.
"Solas?" He called as they continued on. The mage looked over his shoulder as they moved.
"Yes?"
"How did you stop the mark from spreading?" He asked as Solas looked at it then him.
"Healing magic and minor wards." his hand flared slightly, the burning pain faint. "My magic cannot stop the mark from growing further. For your sake, I suggest we hurry." The mages gaze slide to the trek ahead of him.
The pit in his stomach returned, his heart racing faster, despite their quick movement. It was killing him; he could feel it. His pace slowed, lagging near the end. What if the flashes he had experience were just those near-death visions? Life flashing before your eyes? But he didn't recognize them. He wanted to pound his knuckles through his temples. Varric was catching up beside him, making him glance over.
He couldn't think about this. If he did, he wouldn't make it. Looking to Varric, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"That's… a nice crossbow you have there." Gods, his mouth was dry, voice unsteady. Varric didn't seem to notice. Instead, his face warmed as he tossed a smile over her shoulder to his weapon.
"Ah, isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together."
"You named your crossbow… Bianca?" Is that who-what was excited?
"Of course. And she'll be great company in the valley." Yes. Yes, it was. That at least took out a little confusion from earlier.
"So… are you innocent?" Varric asked as they moved. He sent the dwarf a blank stare.
"I don't remember what happened." He admitted honestly. The dwarf nodded and shrugged a shoulder.
"That'll get you every time. Should have spun a story." The dwarf shrugged again as Cassandra casted a look behind at them.
"That's what you would have done." She scolded but Varric let it roll of him.
"It's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution."
"I'm dying anyway." He found himself snapping out making Varric silent. After climbing a set of stairs, he flinched when fireballs rained down from the angry sky, but paused when demons came into view. However, there was a blur of movement between them. A figure moving in and out, glints of metal swiping at one demon that moved like a slug. Moving behind a large rock on the right side, he found himself moving forward apprehensively.
"Cassandra," He called as she moved forward. "Your men, they have a particular colour of uniform, do they not?" He hadn't taken his eyes off the figure.
"They are green and browns. Why do you-" She trailed off when the figure leapt down from the stone. "You there!" Cassandra called and sprinted to the figure. He followed making sure to draw his weapon and shield as they neared. Solas and Varric stayed farther back to cast magic and arrows at the demons that started towards them… He followed closely behind Cassandra, his long legs picking up speed. Upon nearing he noticed their armour different from the ones he had seen prior. They wore a long coat that went almost to their shin, brown knee-high boots, brown gloves that reached their elbow, a pouch strapped to their right thigh a deep purple undercoat and a thick belt along their waist. Their head and most of their face was covered by a thick dark green cowl, the colour familiar from the other soldiers that he had seen prior too.
Seeing both him and Cassandra approaching steadily, he watched as they turned their head to look at them, then raise a hand and throw something to the ground. With a bang, a cloud of smoke covered the figure and enveloped the area where they had been standing. Cassandra got there first, barreling into the dark mist. Rushing in after her, he blocked a clawed swing and fought with the demons, backhanding one with his shield and slashing deeply with sword, turning it to muck.
Turning around he came face to face to the figure. His mind worked quickly, taking in closer details. Human or elf from the look of their height. Face was covered, but dark eyes that were focused on him. He felt the prick of the blade before he saw it at his throat and winced when it pressed a little deeper when he tried to shift his feet. Gritting his teeth, he contemplated a way to attack. He started to move backwards but felt the large stone behind him.
Stuck between a blade and a hard place.
"Shit." He muttered and glared at whoever this was. Where they the cause of all this? Maybe they had been fleeing and got caught up in it all. "Who are you?!" He demanded and watched the eyes widen slightly but the brows come down from under the cowl. Reading the face, it went from confrontation, confusion then... surprise?
"Wha- it can't... be?" The voice was muffled, but the burning behind his eyes returned at the sound of it... The smoke didn't help him, not to put a name to a face or his vision.
A war-cry erupted behind him, the smoke wafting away slightly from the force of it. The dark eyes moved to the sound and jumped away when a a large blade swung downward between the two of them, digging into the stone. Jerking away, he coughed as the smoke cleared substantially thanks to the cool winds. Landing in the snow, the rogue looked between him and the others as they joined his side. Varric loaded another bolt as Solas sent out blasts of magic towards them. Jumping and rolling out of the way, they slid in the snow now clutching their right arm. Ice was coated from fingers to collarbone. Looking back to him, the bafflement was there for a second before jerking their head as they struck their hand on the ground, their body turning see-through, no smoke bomb required.
"Where did they go?!" Cassandra demanded; her sword held at the ready. They all searched but found nothing. He heard Cassandra striding towards him and pulling his arm to get his attention. "Why didn't you attack?" She demanded. He probably looked as lost as she was angry.
"I didn't... get a chance. Was pinned between a rock and a… knife." He admitted and rubbed his neck and felt a small bead of blood coat his fingers. Cassandra watched him warily as he staunched the small cut.
"We can't wait around or go hunt them down. We need to reach the rift!" Solas called out as he joined their side. Cassandra looked between the two of them before huffing and walked on, Solas and Varric walking with her. He held his tongue with the fact that something about that rogue had felt almost... familiar. His head felt like it was on the verge of splitting though. They had disappeared, like the burning behind his eyes.
He was aware that rogues had that ability, but in battle it only lasted a short time. Unless… His eyes moved along the treeline. Unless they disengaged from battle. That would have given them more time. Though either way, they couldn't have gone far. He lingered for a second longer then turned and followed Cassandra. They had walked a short distance when another flair of his hand had his gasping, holding his wrist tightly as if it would stop the flow of the pain. His vision blinked in and out, his body tensed and then relaxed when it passed.
"Shit, are you alright?" Varric asked getting to his side, putting Bianca on his back. Wincing he shook his hand gently as he looked at him with a smidge of intrigue.
"For the most part. Though I have to say that most dwarves I have met are intimidated by someone like me and don't show concern for my wellbeing." He watched Varric contemplate that and then shrugged as they continued after Cassandra and Solas.
"We had Qunari in Kirkwall. A whole boatload of them. They were your typical cheerless sort. Then they tried to take over the city and kill everyone. But I'm guessing you don't actually follow the Qun, do you? You're Tal-Vashoth." The way Varric had stated it and not asked almost made him smile.
Tal-Vashoth. He almost chuckled at the term, one that would have had his sister sneer at no doubt before going off on a tangent about- his steps faltered.
His. Sister.
His chest clenched tightly and his breathing became a little laboured. Cassandra had said that no one else had come out of the fade. All others had died at the Conclave. She had been there with him. He knew it. Felt it to his damn bones. His body trembled in a silent rage when he couldn't recall their last conversation, but some woman in weird clothes that had held him at knifepoint had his mind scrambling to place where he could have possibly known her.
He couldn't even remember her name. Her fucking name!
"Seems your about as talkative as the rest of your kind, huh?" He heard Varric add, but focused his eyes on the damn Breach high above them. He would get up there and seal this thing, and if death was the price, he would welcome it.
Would he see her again and recognize her?
"Apologies, Varric." He cleared his throat gently, pushing his feelings aside. Though the dwarf had no doubt seen his emotional change and tried for a lighter continuation of their conversation. "I'm surprised you can tell something like that. Very... perceptive of you." He heard Varric continue to talk, but didn't really listen. He simply kept marching forward and welcomed the sight of demons erupting from a small rift out in front of the gates.
"They keep coming! Help us!" A soldier cried as they circled and began attacking. Using his anger, he felt his body burn as one by one, they fell. For a moment, things were quiet. No more demons came out and he was almost angry at the idea.
"Hurry! Use the mark!" Solas shouted from his position, breaking him out of whatever state he had been slipping into. Lifting his hand, he felt another pull like the last one as it connected and for a second, it felt different. Like something was pulled or dragged over the connection, but he didn't have long to analyze it before it sealed. He was looking over his palm when he heard Cassandra giving out orders.
Cassandra sheathed her sword and strides to the gates. "The rift is gone! Open the gate!"
The solder lifted a hand and tapped his chest. "Right away, Lady Cassandra!"
Solas walked until he reached his side and walked alongside him. "We are clear for the moment. Well done."
"Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful." Varric added as they began walking into the forward camp. "I wonder where that rogue ran off too?" Varric added lifting his eyes to his. He raised a shoulder then dropped it.
"Couldn't have gone far." He returned and caught Solas lifting a brow.
"What makes you say that?" He placed his staff into his pack as they kept pace. He could hear Leliana's voice arguing with a man a few feet from him but not paying much attention he looked back at the mage.
"When you were… looking over me, did I have any… head injuries?" Solas looked puzzled then shook his head.
"No. You were physically fine, apart from the mark." He stopped a few feet away so Cassandra could join Leliana and a man in Chantry robes. "Why, is there something troubling you?"
"I keep getting... Flashes. Visions almost. Nothing clear but I feel as though they're memories that have been pressing on my skull wanting to burst free, but I can never..." he sighed, "It fades away before I can linger and think on it. And nothing sticks. But that rogue..." He cast a look over his shoulder. "Something about them had my head burning. And just a moment ago... Varric had said something about me being Tal-Vashoth and…" he swallowed and felt the ache in his chest erupt slightly. "My sister... She had been here... at the Conclave. But I don't remember much about her." He looked to Solas, mentally pleading he had an answer but the mage looked more sympathetic to the fact of his loss then knowledgeable as to why he had no memories.
Solas looked about as lost as Varric did and opened his mouth to say something when voices were raised, interrupting them.
"You, Cassandra, the Most Holy — haven't you all done enough already?" The Chantry man accused, his face one of anger at the two women before him.
Leliana stepped forward, meeting the older mans gaze. "You're not in command here!"
"Enough! I will not-" his face turned to now look past the women to him. And they narrowed. "And there they are" Looking from Leliana to the Chantry man, he could tell from the man's tone that he thought he was in command here.
Leliana looked from Cassandra to the rest of them, lingering over himself. "You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this—"
Roderick held up a hand, dismissing what she had been saying. "I know who he is." Just the way he spoke to her had him aching to backhand his mouth. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution." He pointed directly at him. Before he could say anything, Cassandra stepped in the line of sight.
"Order me? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!" She threw back, her voice ringing clear in her indignation. Rodrick returned her gaze with a cold one of his own.
"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!" Rodrick spat at him, making him frown.
This had Leliana stepping around the table to regard him more directly. "We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know."
"Justinia is dead!" Rodrick shouted and anything after that he didn't care for.
Dead. It still felt devastating to him to hear. 'Please, call me Justinia.' The remnants of the memory like a personal balm to him, and made him stand a little straighter. He was more than a thug. Though this chancellor's tone had his back straightening.
"So, none of you are in charge here?" He asked and grew pleased at Roderick's irritation as he slammed his hands on the table.
"You killed everyone who was in charge!"
"I did no such thing!" He shouted in return making the chancellor flinch. "And instead of accusing me, who is also someone who doesn't know what in the Maker's name happened here, why don't we focus on something that should be on everyone who is here, their priority." He felt a little pleased when the chancellor paled slightly then pointed to the sky. "What. About. The. Breach?"
"You brought this on us in the first place!" Rodrick returned, making him take a steadying breath. His frustration ringing clear as Roderick turned to Cassandra. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.
"We can stop this before it's too late." She returned, and got a scoff from the chancellor.
"How? You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers."
Welcome to my current situation, he inwardly thought as they started arguing. A flare up had the ground shaking, no doubt to them being closer than they had been before. His arm shook as well. His muscles locking up with tension, pain pulsing in harsh pumps. His vision darkened harshly, making his breath stutter.
Cassandra turned to him "How do you think we should proceed?"
"Now you're asking me what I think?" His shock rang clear in his voice.
"You have the mark." Solas interjected.
"And you are the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own…" Cassandra added. He thought on it, felt his hand pulse slightly, his vision darkening again. Blinking hard a few times, he looked back to them, decision made.
"I say we charge. I won't survive long enough for your trial." He almost sneered the word trial at Roderick... "Whatever happens, happens now." He finished and got a nod of approval from Cassandra as she turned to Leliana.
"Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone." Leliana nodded and moved quickly to the other solders as they began advancing across to the other side. He stared down Rodrick as he shook his head, defeatedly.
"On your head be the consequences, Seeker." Rodrick all but spat at them as they walked past.
He almost missed it, but he caught the way Cassandra's head lowered a little, her face uncertain but then straightened, head held high and shoulder straight. Racing ahead, they climbed, the sounds of a large battle drawing near. Soon, a stone archway with tatters of Chantry flags under stone flame holders came into view. Slowing down, he looked back over the path they had taken. He could almost see them... Lines on two sides, mages and templars. Far as the eye could see… For a second it was there, clear as day, then with a blink, it was gone and back to the ruined side he now stood in the middle of. The flashes of green light making his hand pulse.
"Be weary — another fade rift!" Solas called as they walked under the archway. Like having a sense of doing it before, for just a second, he saw the whole building laid before him. Warm hallways, guards moving around and about as they prepared for the accepting of Mages and Templars. He could almost feel his his crew moving through the sea of people like water. But…
'Justinia is dead.'
That has the vision fading away, like mist.
He grits his teeth and drops down, throwing himself into the fight. He caught sight of a solder, not dressed like the others. He was cleaving through demons, his weapons of choice were sword and shield, just like himself.
Varric let out an irked sigh beside him "How many rifts are there?
"We must seal it if we are to get past!" Solas supplied as he froze a demon that shattered under Cassandra's shield bash.
Just like before, when the demons were no longer coming as quickly, he lifted his hand, and pulled his green lightning-like string taunt, sealing the smaller rift.
Solas joined him at his side, looking at the space the rift had occupied. "Sealed, as before." He looked back up to him. "You are becoming quite proficient at this." He shook his hand gently, clenching it now and again, feeling a little better as Varric joined them.
"Let's hope it works on the big one." He casted a look to Varric that no doubt read 'No kidding.'
"Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done." The soldier that caught his attention earlier spoke as he strided to her.
"Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner's doing." She turned as she addressed him. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them getting a good look at him. He had blond hair, amber eyes with faint circles under them, like he hadn't slept in days and by the looks of his facial stubble, he was right. Commander? Impressive title. He looked over the uniform he wore and almost gave a tight nod. Certainly, was dressed like one. His over coat was a deep red with a red and black lion-like mane over his shoulders. Under that he wore steel plated armor, leather gloved and dark pants and boots. The Commander met his gaze steadily after he gave him the once over.
"Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here." He turned his head to where the rift had been then back to him.
"I can't promise anything, but I'll try my best."
"That's all we ask." His amber eyes moved back to Cassandra. "As well... Cassandra... We... found someone else."
"What?!" Both Cassandra and himself exclaimed as another soldier came towards them.
"Did you see who it was? Did they fall out of the fade?" Cassandra asked as he watched the soldier slowed as he drew near.
"No. We couldn't tell who it was, but whoever it is… joined us into the battle. That is, after they knocked down several of our best men." The commander's eyes moved to the soldier who looked away, shame covered his face. He didn't need to be verbally pointed out, but best guess was that he was who had been knocked out of battle. "When we tried to apprehend them, they ran." The commander supplied and received a scrutinizing stare from Cassandra as the soldier moved on. He stepped forward, his own questions wracking in his mind and falling from his mouth.
"Did... Were they wearing a dark blue coat? Cowl over the head and face?" He asked and watched the commander shift a little, his posture turning apprehensive.
"Yes." He said curtly looking between the two of them.
"We crossed paths with them." He added and felt a different kind of cold wash over him as both Cassandra and the commander watched him.
"And slipped past us too." Varric added, getting their attention.
"Did they kill your men?" Solas inquired, drawing the commander's attention.
"No, but they may as well have. By making them unconscious during battle may as well have been killing them."
"We are uncertain of what this rogue's objective is. But be sure to spread word to the men that they are seen their to be- "
"Unharmed." He cut in, earning a look of shock and disapproval. He focused on Cassandra "I know you don't want to take chances... but something is telling me that killing them wouldn't be the wisest decision. Who knows what they could be doing here? Maybe whoever it is, is just unsure as to the where, what and why of this place as I am." His voice was beseeching and was only met with hard stares.
"I... can't help but agree. We also need answers." Cassandra didn't have to say much more. The commander nodded tightly.
"I'll see to it that the men know that if they see the rogue, they are to be apprehended. For questioning." The commander added as he fully turned to Cassandra. "The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there."
"Then we'd best move quickly. Give us time, Commander." Cassandra started to move on, the others following. The commander's eyes lingered over him; his face impassive as he started towards the men who had been falling back from the field.
"Maker watch over you — for all our sakes." He said as he hurried his pace to join an injured soldier, lifting the man's arm over her shoulder to help him walk. Following along they neared a new area.
The scent of smoke and an electrical current hung in the air as he dropped down into the mess of stone.
Solas stood up after he dropped down and looked around. "The Temple of Sacred Ashes." His voice was grim and he looked around, a pained look on his face.
Varric grimaced as he joined them below. "What's left of it."
Cassandra joined him by his side and pointed a finger to a collection of rubble and soot. "That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you." He walked over, looking around for any sort of clue. He wouldn't find any, no doubt. Since they had collected him and dragged him from here. "They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."
"Was there anything around me? Weapons? Papers? Anything?" He implored as he looked to her. She shook her head.
"Our men recovered nothing. Just you." So plainly it was said, though she had said it before. Yet, it still hurt. Like every time it was spoken, he mourned much deeper and harder than before.
"I knew someone here..." He admitted aloud. "A sister." He stated tightly before turning to her. "I take it that no body was recovered that... looked like mine?" He asked and he watched her face go from harsh neutral to one of slight sympathy.
"No." Her voice gentled, at least a little. He let out a harsh breath before looking away as he began to shake again, his fear, anger and pain mixing all around him. "For what its worth... I'm sorry for your loss." He gave a tight nod of thanks and started to move on, his steps dragging. His ribs ached, his breathing was going from deadly still to harsh and his body wanted to collapse.
Small glimpses of shields, staves, doors opening and closing, running and then falling flinted across his mind. Blinking hard he focused on what was before him. There are a bunch of burned or still burning corpses and scattered bones. He counted at least 30 burned corpses, so many skulls among the scattered bones, plus one relatively intact Templar shield… His eyes lingered over the bodies. Some holding their heads, bent over like they were trying to hide when the blast range out. Others screaming as fire licked at the flesh. His eyes burned as the ache in his chest expanded once again. Clenching his teeth hard he walked on through the rubble.
Stick to what you know.
When their party enters the temple there are two burning bodies and a large light that makes everyone slow to a stop.
Varric got his crossbow ready as his eyes moved upwards at the large glowing tear in the sky. "The breach is a long way up." He was about to agree when the sounds of many armoured footsteps drew closer to them. Looking back, he saw Leliana approaches from behind with some soldiers, a bow slung over her shoulders. Conversation happened between both her and Cassandra as his eyes moved around the field. The large green crystal in front of him didn't jerk and shift like the ones before... He glared at it.
It felt different. It pulled to him, like a faint hand reaching out, though jagged and horrific looking. His hand tingled in response, but no flashes followed.
Cassandra walked to his side, getting in his line of sight. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"
No.
He looked down to her and took a steadying breath. "I'll try, but I don't know if I can reach that, much less close it."
Solas shook his head as he stepped along his left. "No. This rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach."
He nearly laughed. It was just that easy.
"Then let's find a way down." Cassandra says as she looks at the ground below. "And be careful."
Leliana accompanies soldiers as they go up some steps and take the path that circles around them from above as they started down towards the large breach. As they got closer, sounds that pulled at him drew his attention. Like it had come from all around as a deep foreboding voice filled the air.
"Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."
Cassandra looked around, her weapon at the ready. "What are we hearing?" She asked aloud and he found himself wondering the same.
Solas prepared his staff, energy crackling all around him. "At a guess: The person who created the Breach."
Good news was; it didn't sound like him. So, there was that.
The bad news; the voice had a chill run down his spine.
Their group passed archers who looked ready to draw and fire at anything and everything when a gleam of colour caught his eye.
Varric hissed and called over his shoulder. "You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker."
Cassandra nodded and stepped over the crystal-like stones. "I see it, Varric."
Varric walked on, but his eyes followed the glowing red for a second longer before they looked back at her. "But what it's doing here?"
"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…" Solas interjected.
Varric sneered at Solas. "It's evil. Whatever you do don't touch it." His eyes went to him and he caught the warning it held.
Another echo from the Fade around them.
"Keep the sacrifice still."
Followed by a voice that had him stopping in his tracks.
"Someone help me!"
Cassandra stopped as well, her eyes wide in shock. "That is Divine Justinia's voice!"
They continued, unspeaking as they reached the end of the path and goes down a flight of stairs to the cobble covered ground. Approaching the rift, his hand flared up, pain following but it was subdued by the sensation of needing to pull something towards him as they heard another echo from the Fade. The voice of Justinia calling out again;
"Someone help me!"
Followed by his own. "What's going on here?" That had his head ease a little.
"That was your voice." Cassandra stated, her voice an emotional mash he didn't try to sift through. "Most Holy called out to you. But…" Cassandras voice trailed off as a flash of white light, then ghostly images appeared above them, they could see Divine Justinia floating while being held in place by red energy wrapped around her arms. A large dark figure made up of what looked like thick smoke with glowing red eyes loomed over her. Off to the left of her, they saw himself running into the room. His large Qunari body, horns curling back like a large ram, the thick points pointing to the sky shined subtly with their silver caps, his black skin making his red leather armor stand out.
"What's going on here!?" His own voice sounded so different to his own ears. Confident, capable and confrontational of whatever the dark creature before them was.
The ghostly image of Justinia looked to him, her face pleading. "Run while you can! Warn them!"
"Them?" Cassandra echoed behind him. He barely moved but his head did nod.
The dark image barley moved. "We have an intruder. Slay the Qunari!"
There is another flash of white light and the ghostly images disappears but all around, voices started to overlap.
"Let me see what's out there!" … "Well, this certainly changes things." … "Get down!"
"Somethings wrong. We have to regroup!" … "When did this happen?" … "There isn't any time!"
Many more voices, all called to him, screams of pain and his hands clenched his sword and shield as Cassandra stormed up to him.
"You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?"
He felt his mouth go dry as he looked to her. "I don't remember."
Solas stepped in, his own eyes moved around. He had seemed pulled to the voices just as he had been but more out of awe by the looks of him. "Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place."
Cassandra stepped into his face; her eyes wild. "Who were the other voices?!"
He gritted his teeth and looked at her, his body burning. "I don't remember!"
The apostate moved closer as he explained, his eyes looking at the large green gyrating crystal. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily." He turned back to look at them. "I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."
Cassandra drew her weapon. "That means demons. Stand ready!" She called behind her and all around him, sounds of weapons were drawn.
He opened his hand towards the rift after he looked to the group with a tight nod. He felt the pull when the light connected from himself to the crystal. He felt the beam land on something, something different. Something solid, familiar. He thought back to the voices and clung to the familiar feeling and pulled, his teeth grinding as he felt it come closer until something cut the connection and surged towards him. Taken aback, the rift opens raggedly and a large demon comes out, landing on the ground with a loud crash.
"Now!" Cassandra called and everything happened at once. Arrows were flying through the air, attacks to the demon seemed to damage it only a little. Blasts of cold landed on it, slowing it down as it clung to its center. That was before a deep grotesque chuckle erupted from it and dark lightning blasted from its clawed hand at several soldiers. Their screams echoing in the air around them. Cassandra hid behind her shield as rocks were black back from the blast.
"We must strip its defenses! Wear it down!" She called out when her shield lowered and her sword started to cut at its legs. He rushed in and managed to take a good chunk from its knee before he was blown backwards by the demon's hand. Landing on the ground, the wind in his lungs escaped him, his vision blinking in an out, his ribs screaming in protest.
Cassandra looked back to him, as he quickly tried to get back to his feet. "Quickly! Disrupt the rift!"
It was worth a shot, he thought as he picked up his sword and moved on unsteady legs to the rift again. Lifting his hand, he jerked when the light connected again. Images swirled in his mind as a single voice called to him, again, familiar.
'I… your all-seeing eyes… you can ever find.'
He willed it to him and mentally pulled it towards him. A blast of energy broke the connection, the feeling accompanying the voice shooting out, away from him. The frustration returned as he turned and threw himself back into the battle. These rifts held keys to his men that he had been at the Conclave with.
That he was sure. He wanted to know. Needed to see if it was all in his head but he couldn't with this damn demon! He felt pleased when the demon let out a cry of pain as it dropped to a knee, it's breath heaving.
"The demon is vulnerable – now!" Cassandra called amongst the chaos. Everyone honed in on it. With every swing, he felt pleasure when it cried out in pain. Taking out his frustrations on it he saw the rift jerk again and the demon rose again, roaring and sending out a shockwave of energy. He noticed his blade wasn't sinking as deep as it was before. The rift needed to be disrupted again. Blocking a swipe from the large demon, he moved back to the rift, an arrow whizzing by his head had him flinching. Lifting his hand, he noticed Varric move to cover him. He was about to say thanks when another flashed connection had him jarring.
'How about a spar… keep us both warmed up?'
He felt his lips pulled at the corners at those words. For what reason, he couldn't recall. Dammit all to- he tried to pull again when another voice came in.
'We do what we can.'
The rift was disrupted again, the demon falling to the ground, only he too had a feeling of being pulled in another direction leaving him woozy. Shaking it off, he rushed back into the battle.
All these voices, he thought as he began to cut into the demon. But the faces to them so elusive. No names either. A claw raked down his ribs, opening his barley healed wound from earlier. Groaning, he blocked another swipe and flinched against the roar it let loose when Cassandra delivered a gruesome blow, knocking it to the ground. Vision blinking in and out as he pressed a hand to his rubs, he heard Cassandra telling him to seal the rift. Moving to the base of it, he lifted his hand, his body aching as the green energy crackled between him as it begins to seal the rift while everyone watched.
The energy pulled at him towards the Breach. His arm burned and pulsed at the pressure. Digging his heels in, he closed his eyes, feeling for the familiarity from earlier. The Breach crackled, his arm burned, his vision blurred.
He wanted things to stop hurting, wanted his memories to make sense. He wanted his family. The thought solidified something and, on a gasp, he felt something latch on to the energy that flowed from him. Clenching his hand, he pulled, his muscled straining with the pain from his ribs.
Until...
With a blast of blinding white light, he felt his body nearly fall backwards as a pulse rang out amongst the heavens, the soldiers falling amongst the rubble while he staggard, blinking to clear his vision as his head felt light. Looking down, hit noticed the wounds had torn more, the blood flowing over his red armour. But that was the least of his worries. He felt drained, more than blood loss could have done... The breach must have- looking up, he heard a ragged gasp fill the silent air.
Underneath where the Breach had been, lay 3 bodies. Compared to the others around them, they appeared untouched, save a few injuries.
His legs, weak and feeling almost broken, carried him over, even as the pain had him swallowing bellows as people around him started moving towards the bodies as well. Raising his sword, he looked to everyone with a warning glare that had Cassandra, Varric and Solas slowing though their weapons raised. He moved quicker; his footsteps heavy with each impact.
The closest to him was the smallest body. Dwarf from the sight, and after getting closer felt his mind nearly split open. Dark brown skin, eyes, though closed were covered to the temples and down the bridge that almost reached the tip of her nose with a dark tattoo. Her loose black hair curled at the collar of her dark green merchant coat. Lifting her from the dirt, he blinked away the dots that filled his vision and the wracking pain that echoed in his mind. She looked mostly unharmed, but the tightly bound thigh had him worried. It had been tended to, but a deep gash above the knee had him carefully picking the dwarf up by her shoulders.
"Wake up." He commanded with a subtle shake. She didn't stir, but her chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths. He heard footsteps draw near, even as his mind felt light headed.
"Do you know these people?" Cassandra asked, but her tone had sharpened once again. He felt his head pulse with pain as he looked from the short woman to the one who still held her weapon drawn.
"I..." He trailed off and let out a short huff of air. "If I told you I don't know yet, would you believe me?" He watched Cassandra who studied him closely. "I feel like I should... But like the flashes from before," his eyes moved to the space above him where the breach had been, "I don't remember." He looked back down to the dwarf. His hands moved over her, checking for other wounds, but found his body stilling when he noticed thin scars running over the pads of her fingers on both hands. To thin to have gotten it from a weapon that by looking from the state of her, she didn't have one on hand. He frowned as he continued to look over her hands, something about them making him pause. Not dirty enough to have been crafting, he thought by the looks of her hands. So not a tinkerer either. He frowned as he looked at the scars. It was almost thin as a razors edge, like- He almost dropped the poor unconscious woman. A string. Like that from an instrument. He looked down and felt a wave of recognition and a memory solidified.
A rowdy bar, the sounds of music playing from many musicians, but the heartbreaking strain of harp notes had caught his ears as did a woman screeching about the music being too depressing and the harpist looking up from the cords, her words falling on the commotion of the bar. The intoxicated women had staggered to her, grabbing the harp only the dwarf had held on, her fingers catching the strings pulling them so tightly her fingers cut as the strings broke. It somehow resulted in a brawl and him offering his hand to the dwarf to join his crew. He recalled seeing her fingers, bloodied just at the tips as she took his hand and with a decent shake.
"Mishka." He felt the name fall from his lips, as the memory of her saying it filling in a part of his mind. So many things happening all at once. He looked up and noticed Cassandra slowly making her way over to him. "Minks." He recalled her given nickname. "She was one of my men." He explained to Cassandra as she stepped beside him and looked over the dwarf. "She's been injured." He said as he looked to her leg again.
"And what of this one?" Cassandra asked, voice tight. He looked from Minks to the man a foot to his right as Cassandra nudged him with her toes and stepped back when a gargled groan sounded from the body. Resting Minks down, he moved to the other, his eyes taking stalk, drinking them in for all he could.
Human male, his hair a dirty blond, shaved all along the sides, leaving the top long and falling over his brows. A shallow wound that ran from his jaw to his collarbone had him gently shaking the man on his shoulder.
I know you too, he thought as he shifted him to rest on his back like Mishka- er Minks. She preferred Minks.. A deep, dry groan met his ears before his eyelids cracked and squinted against the light of the day.
His body shook when he was met with a pair of mismatched eyes, his left eye blue, his right a deep green. He himself staggered when he was met with more startling flashes. Drinking at a bar, sparring together in -the custom-made weapons on his bed! He remembered turning around after admiring the work and noticed the same eyes watching him. A small tilt of a single corner to show his version of a smile as he leaned in the doorway.
"Theon." The name left easily from his lips as the memory solidified, centering him. The two-coloured eyes struggled to focus as a croaked sound escaped his throat.
"Dec..." He managed to get out before his eyes shut and his body slumped. He vaguely heard Cassandra talking to Leliana as she walked to her side. His eyes struggled to stay open as he looked to the last and biggest body.
Dark grey skin, and dark hair to match that ended in thick braids, but the horns that were visible were swept back and slightly corkscrewed upwards. He gasped as his eyes moved to her face as he touched her shoulder, pulling her to him and felt his body wracked with trembling that had nothing to do with pain. The shaking jostled her, making her eyes slowly widen until a pair of bright red peered back at him. There was a moment before he touched her temple, over the circular star-like scar that looked to be still healing. But it was the golden horn covering that had him slowly smiling. He looked up to Cassandra who now joined him at his side.
"Who is she?" She asked, her sword pointed at the Qunari in question. Risking cutting himself, he shoved the blade away.
"Cl- Clarriselda" He almost sobbed when her shaky hand reached out to touch his face. "My sister." He supplied when Cassandra stepped closer.
"Dec..lan..erion." His sister gasped, her voice rough, like someone had choked her. Resting his forehead to hers, he could help but breath a sigh of relief and in the next inhale, he felt himself grow, become more centered. Lifting his head from hers, he gave a relived smile before she to became unconscious. Growing worried, he searched for injuries but could see none present. Rising with her in his arms, he turned to face the soldiers head on and staggered when his vision blurred. Cassandra stepped in front of him, her words sounding waterlogged to him. Straining to focus, he grew angered when his knees began to shake, likely to buckle.
"He's lost too much blood." He heard Solas explain faintly when he dropped to a knee. He felt his sister flinch, her face pained.
"He needs a healer." Varric called to them as he moved aside for the soldiers.
"I won't leave them!" He threw out, his grip tightening. "My... friends... my.. family." He gritted out, his fingers tightening on his sister's limp body as he looked to the others as the soldiers moved in around them. He vaguely heard orders being called, more commotion beyond what he could see and a short figure stepping beside him. "Are not to be harmed." He managed out, his body swaying. He felt a hand on his shoulder before he himself fall forward, darkness dragging him down once again.
AN:
Hello any and all! Thank you so much for bearing with me in this long chapter. Our leading man here has finally started his journey, and its going to be a long one. This story is going to take the perspectives of our companions here, both our DA friends and Declanerion's. POV with shift between them but I will be sure to let you know whose perspective we are hearing/reading from at the beginning/ throughout the chapter. I hope you all liked it! If you did, be sure to follow and leave a review! I love reading them!
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Until next chapter!
-IMME