Eleanor said something to one of the guards, who nodded and marched off. Nodding to Tala, she followed his path at a more leisurely pace, and Tala fell into step beside her.
"There's too much to say in one conversation," Eleanor told her. "So I'll let you know the most important parts."
Tala nodded, relieved to finally be getting some concrete information – it allowed her something to focus on. If she learned as much as she could, she could have some feeling of control in this increasingly fucked-up situation.
"They're called Fade Rifts," Eleanor said. "Tears in the Veil that separates us from the Fade. Up until now, they've been exclusively bad news, as they allow demons and spirits to wreak havoc on whatever they can. The Inquisition is tasked with closing those rifts."
"And then I fell out of one of those." Even though she'd geared up for it, this explanation was shaping up to be a little…out there. "But I'm not a demon. Or a spirit. Le– I mean, Sister Leliana can tell you that."
"I'll take your word for it," Eleanor said, smiling. "But yours seems to have closed by itself. That is highly unusual, because up until now, there had only been one thing proven to close them."
"What is it?"
She's going to say something like magic, or something, because of course she would, with the way this day is going.
"It's called the Anchor." The words came a little slower than before. "A mark that allows the person who wields it to seal the rifts."
"And how many people have this, um, anchor?"
"Only one."
Tala exhaled sharply. That sounded like a world of responsibility, with a generous helping of crazy. "Wow. Only one person. I feel sorry for whoever that is."
"Some called it a miracle," Eleanor said, and Tala suddenly wondered if she'd caused offense. "A blessing conferred from Andraste to her Herald."
Andraste, Herald. They were veering into unknown territory again. Thankfully, Eleanor wasn't done talking.
"Actually, the mark's on the last person to fall out of a rift."
"Wait. Wait, you don't think," Tala said, panic rising again as the implication of what Eleanor said hit her, "I don't even know how I would –"
"I wouldn't worry," Eleanor said, sounding, for the first time, just a little tired. "You don't have it. I – we were hoping that perhaps…but it's alright. We'll do fine as we are."
Oh. Maybe they thought I would be able to help. A small pang of guilt went through Tala, though she knew it was ridiculous. Even if she was willing, it sounded like too much risk – if and when she fucked up, what would the consequences be? It wasn't even her world.
"Here we are," Eleanor said, breaking Tala's reverie. They were standing in front of another door, which was in a lot better shape than hers. "After you."
Tala went through.
Breathe in, breathe out, and you can do this, Tala promised herself, I'll have any conversation they want, and I'll do it without snapping. Breaking down was a luxury she would indulge in when she was alone.
She walked into the room, making sure to look at her surroundings carefully. It was clearly a study or an office of some kind – much nicer than her 'room', larger, with more furniture and even a carpet on the floor, but it was still a little drafty. Inside was a tall, blonde man who had shoulders like a linebacker and armor topped with the fluffiest collar she'd ever seen.
"Inquisitor," he said in a deep, pleasant voice.
Tala's head whipped around so fast that her neck almost seized up.
"Wait, you're the Inquisitor that everyone keeps talking about?"
Welp, there goes the composure.
Eleanor shrugged at her, saying, "I'm sorry. I would have told you, but it was a nice break. This is Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's forces."
"And you are Tala," Cullen said, choosing to gloss over her little outburst. He looked her over in the same, practiced way that Leliana and Eleanor had done.
"Okay," Tala said, determined once and for all to get the story straight. "Okay, I'll answer any questions you have. But please, humor me."
Cullen looked at Eleanor, who nodded in response.
Taking that as an okay signal, Tala took a deep breath. "The Fade Rifts. You said the Inquisition was in charge of closing them."
"Yes," she said.
"You're the Inquisitor, so…I would assume you're in charge of the whole thing."
Eleanor's lips twitched. "Yes, more or less."
"So this place, Skyhold, it's like, the headquarters of this Inquisition?"
"It is the center of all of the Inquisition's operations, you're correct," Cullen said, speaking at last. "So you understand that it is crucial to keep Skyhold safe from any and all who look to compromise it."
If Leliana was a knife, Cullen was a sledgehammer. His threat had all the subtlety of a punch in the face; Tala could've sworn that she heard Eleanor give the smallest sigh, but she moved past it.
"Then that mark that closes the rifts, the Anchor, the one given to the Herald person, that's what the whole Inquisition –" she said, before she made the now glaringly obvious connection. Turning back to Eleanor, she continued, "That's what the whole Inquisition depends on. And you're the Herald."
If she had room for any other emotions, Tala would've felt a little insulted that Eleanor looked so impressed at her statement.
"Guilty as charged," Eleanor said, a little less lightly than before. "Like I said, with the circumstances of your appearance, there was a brief hope that there would be two marks. It would have allowed us to…work more efficiently, in a way. The theological confusion in its wake would've been a small price to pay."
Theological. That's another thing I'm going to have to figure out.
But Tala wasn't quite finished yet. "You fell out of a rift, too," she said. "Although…you're from here. Right?"
"Yes. It seems that the similarities in our situations ended at the rift, unfortunately. We still have a mystery on our hands."
At that, Cullen shifted slightly, looking her over once more. Clearly, he hadn't been told all the pertinent details.
"Oh." This was a little less helpful than what was needed – she was still a few brushstrokes short of the bigger picture.
"I've sent for someone to meet you," Eleanor said, when she went quiet. "He knows more about the Fade than most. Perhaps if the two of you talked, he could help."
Eleanor's timing was perfect, apparently, because at that moment the door opened, and the three of them turned towards the sound – a sound, Tala couldn't help but notice, that resembled an actual door opening and not a tacky haunted house effect.
A slim, bald man walked in, greeting Eleanor and Cullen.
"Inquisitor. Commander."
"Solas," both of them said in unison.
"I'm Tala," she heard herself saying. Her mind was still trying to process everything, so when Tala noticed that this 'Solas' person was clearly not human, she just couldn't bring herself to think too deeply about it. "I have a problem."
She wished that the whole thing hadn't started in the shower.
After Eleanor had dragged the sole, dusty chair to the centre of the room – "Maker's breath, Cullen, all these books, when was the last time you sat down?" – Tala sat down. Conscious of the three of them towering over her, she began at the beginning.
Both Eleanor and Cullen had to look away when she stumbled through the whole waking up naked part, her embarrassment causing too many details to just keep coming out of her mouth; the latter's ears were tinged with pink, and the former was polite enough to turn her snort of laughter into a cough.
To his credit, Solas' attention never wavered.
When she'd finished, belatedly realizing that she could've just left out the nakedness of it all, she waited for him to speak.
"So you're saying that all of this is unfamiliar to you," he said.
"I mean, yeah," Tala replied, wondering if he'd missed the whole point of her story. "People keep talking about things that I've never heard about, like all these countries? The whole 'Middle Ages' look of it is the only thing that I vaguely recognize."
At that, the other three glanced at each other.
It was Cullen who spoke. "The Middle Age? We're over forty years into the Dragon Age now. And there is no recorded Middle Age."
"Is that metaphorical or are there are actual dragons here?"
"I take it that your world is devoid of them," Solas said drily. "But yes, there are dragons. Most have been hunted to extinction, but some remain."
"Why not," Tala sighed. "Look, in my world, we don't have this. There's never been anything like a Fade Rift, or anything – I don't even know what the Fade is."
Solas sucked in a breath, leaning forward. "You have no Fade? Then there is no magic, where you're from."
"None whatsoever. We don't even have, um…elves."
The elf – because what else could he be, Tala thought – in front of her was taken aback, and his eyes flashed in a way that made her sweat a little bit.
Oh God, I hope it's not like some slur or something. I don't want to offend the guy that they said could possibly help me.
"No elves?" he said. It was in the same cool tone as before, but she was sure she hadn't imagined the anger in his eyes. "What happened to them?"
"Wha–no, nothing happened to them. They just never existed. There's only humans in our world. I mean, there are animals, but in terms of what we're talking about, there's only humans."
"I see," came the reply. The anger was gone now, and that measured, even look was back in place.
"Well?" Eleanor spoke for the first time since Tala had started her story. "Is it Fade magic?"
"If so, it is magic I have never encountered before."
So that's it, Tala thought, stomach sinking. He really doesn't know?
She was horrified to find that tears were starting to form in her eyes, so she dug her nails into her palms; she didn't even know these people, and crying would make the whole situation a hundred times worse. Blinking, Tala looked at Solas again, willing him to understand how much she hated not knowing.
In his eyes, she saw sympathy. But no eureka moment.
"I'm sorry that I cannot offer more advice. But if I come across any information that may help, be assured that I will let you know."
"Thank you," Tala said, dropping her gaze. She could feel the misery creep in; his promise was too vague. "I appreciate your trying to help."
"You're welcome," he said. Saying his goodbyes, Solas left the office.
She felt Eleanor's hand resting on her shoulder again. "I'm sorry. I really thought he could help."
"It's not your fault." One apology was fine. Two was starting to feel like pity. If Cullen joined in with them, Tala thought she would scream. "If it's okay, do you mind if I go back to the room? Alone?"
"Of course," Eleanor said. Tala couldn't tell if she was looking at her or not. She didn't care. "I'll send along some clothes. And if you need anything else, let myself, Cullen, or Leliana know."
"Thank you." Tala was dimly aware that Eleanor had allowed her to go back, sans the guards; for that she was grateful.
Tala made her way back to the confines of that tiny room by herself, numb to the sounds and smells around her. As she sat on the pathetic, uncomfortable mattress, she finally allowed the tears to come.
Her dreams were flush with terror that night.