Andras, Cassandra, Varric, and Solas followed the path. The ground, while normally uneven, has been made even more treacherous by the rubble from the blast. Bits of wood and rock litter the ground, and even with their careful footwork, Andras stumbled, yet it was not from the ruin of the ground. Rather, he can feel the presence of… something. It niggles in the back of his mind, this other presence.
"Demons ahead!" Solas announced, casting him a peculiar glance. Andras hard, forcing his mind to stay in the present.
Varric smirked, leveling Bianca. "Glad you brought me now, Seeker?"
Cassandra didn't respond, instead bringing her sword and shield to bear. Andras, meanwhile, slipped his daggers from their sheathes. While the make is still unfamiliar – they are not his daggers – their weight in his hands are a comfort. Familiar.
He slipped into the battle, closing distance with the wraiths first.
It's familiar, the fight. Old muscle memory reawakened as he fought. Watch the fist, dodge the bolt. He becomes a swirl of grey, his robes flying about him as he fights. Yes, it's all familiar, he thought as he rolled, dodging a bolt of ice from a wraith. He times his strike, and his daggers make quick work of the fiend.
Before long, the demons are felled, and their small party resumed their back along the path. Andras breathed deep, the adrenaline still coursing in his veins.
As they walked, Varric broke the silence. "So I take it you're from the Free Marches?" he asked, casting a glance at Andras.
Andras raised an eye.
"Accent. I'm from Kirkwall, but you're from… further east, maybe?"
"Where do you think?"
"Ansburg? Ostwick? No? This is going to bother me," Varric said, rambling.
Andras just smirked at Varric. "C'mon. You're not even gonna give me a little hint?" Varric pressed.
Andras shook his head. "Nop-" he began, his smirk faltering as he sucked in a sharp breath, his face contorting in pain. He stumbled, clutching his left hand. the mark flaring.
"Shit, are you alright?" Varric asked, all humor gone.
Andras sucked in a shaky breath. One, two, three, he counted before releasing it. He nodded, grunting a weak affirmation. The look Varric returns to him lets him know the dwarf doesn't believe him.
"My magic cannot stop the mark from growing further," Solas stated. "We must hurry."
As much as Andras wants to quip back something in reply, he bites his tongue. All the adrenaline from earlier is gone. It's just the pain of the mark, burning his blood and bite through his stomach.
As the party continued their trek, Andras can't help but notice the others. Varric continued to cast little worried looks at Andras all the while. If he had been more himself, he may have found it endearing. As it was, Andras was beginning to just concentrate on staying moving, staying upright, and staying alive.
"So… are you innocent?" Varric asked, breaking the silence that had fallen. The dwarf was matching his stride. Either he was slowing down, or Varric knew how to push a pace.
Andras continued watching the path in front of him, worried he might misstep. "I… don't really remember what happened."
"That'll get you every time. Should have spun a story," Varric suggested, mock-chiding.
"That's what you would have done," Cassandra quipped at them from the front.
Varric threw his hands up. "It's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution. "I don't remember," bah. No one ever believes that."
"I'll hold onto that thought," Andras replied. "It'd just be easier to spin a story if I knew what the truth was."
"Hey, but that's where the fun lies! You've got no truth now to hold you back!"
"Varric," Cassandra warned sternly.
The man in question turns a glance toward the heavily armored woman at the front of their party.
"It's harmless fun," he replied.
She stops walking, turning to glare at him.
"Alright; stopping," Varric replied, miming a sewing motion by his mouth. "Lips: sealed."
"Good," Cassandra said, resuming the lead.
They continued on in relative silence again until Andras felt his mark start to burn again.
"There's another rift ahead," he called out.
"We must seal it, quickly!" replied Solas, shooting Andras a peculiar look.
Cassandra nodded as she adopted her guard, and Varric again readied Bianca.
There's a clattering of metal on metal. The sound of armor in motion, Andras realizes. Some soldiers come running in their direction. "They keep coming! Help us!" one shouted between breaths.
Gritting his teeth and steeling his mind, Andras prepared for another fight.
"Get behind us! We'll end this," Andras said. Breathing deep, he succumbs to the moment, rushing in with his daggers. The soldiers, grateful to have someone else be the target, beat a hasty retreat.
The pain melts from his mind as the combat begins again. Hunt, a rogue thought beckons him.
Viciously, he lashes out with his daggers.
These demons, like the ones before, fall.
"Hurry! Use the mark!" Solas shouted to Andras.
Like the first time, Andras raised his left hand. The tingling sensation of uniting with the rift returns. It is a good feeling. Right. The mark is on his hand, his arm, his body. The mark is his, and by extension, the rift is his. He wants it to end, so the rift obeys and closes on itself.
"The rift is gone!" Cassandra shouted before he even finished lowering his hand. "Open the gate!"
"Right away, Lady Cassandra!" one of the soldiers replied.
The heavy gate clanked as metal beat upon metal, rising from the ground by the aid of a series of heavy gears and pulleys and the sweat of men.
Solas turned to Andras, the elf's composure neatly resettled about himself. "We are clear for the moment. Well done," he said, offering Andras a small smile.
"Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful," Varric added, thumping Andras across the back, staggering him. "Shit, sorry," Varric hastily replied.
Andras waved him off good-naturedly.
"I just wish I knew how to really use it…" Andras muttered to himself, lingering as the other headed into the forward camp. He took one last look at his hand and the skirmish site before crossing through the gate to join them.
AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. School and work got really heavy in these last couple of months, and I probably won't be back to regular writing until some time in the New Year.
For those who are asking, this is starting slow. I intend for it to be mostly the same up until the end of the prologue. Then we depart from the safety rails that Bioware gave us. Prologue will end on Chapter 7. Chapter 8 will begin the next arc.