Note: Hope you're not getting whiplash as we whisk ourselves back to Team Lahara…
The guest wing was eerily silent, and Lahara held her breath, not wanting to break the quiet. Her pulse rumbled in her ears, and she stepped lightly, alert for the tiniest movement. Most of the furniture was cloaked in sheets, and dust coated every surface. The Herald's nose twitched, and she had to fight the urge to sneeze. Clearly the place had not hosted visitors for some time.
"Where are those bastards?" Sera blurted, casting her eye across the shadows.
"Indeed, it's not like tainted chevaliers would be this stealthy," Dorian added, staff in hand.
"They must be further inside." Cassandra drew her sword. "Be on your guard."
"Don't have to remind me," Lahara murmured. Her Shard tingled, and she clenched her fist. Since entering the wing, the rune had become very irritable, and that left a knot in her stomach. The red lyrium had to be close, and there must have been a lot of it, too. The sooner they could destroy it, the better.
The ground floor proved empty, and so Lahara led the way up the stairs. Several doors branched from the landing, and her collar clicked as she made for the first one. It was locked fast.
"Lemme see." Sera pushed past, bringing out a set of picks. She twisted them into the keyhole, and soon the tumblers fell into place.
"Nice one," Lahara said, flashing a wink. Sera's face flushed, and she rubbed her cheek against her shoulder.
"You're too sodding nice," she muttered, as they stepped into the lavish bedroom.
"Oh, that's right, I was supposed to be working on my bitchy streak," Lahara answered. "Er, well done, peasant! Now kiss my feet, or something."
Sera giggled. "I like you. You're funny for a mage."
"Please, compared to what's roaming around upstairs, she's a born comedian," Dorian chortled.
"Hey, I can be perfectly hilarious when I need to be," Lahara drawled. "You shouldn't be so quick to…"
A scream erupted from the balcony, drowning the rest of her words. Lahara snapped her head towards the window, and the glint of a blade caught her eye. Snarling, she bolted, her right hand charged.
She broke onto the marble tiling, the night breeze cool against her face. An elf servant was on the floor, back-peddling from a masked assassin. He raised his knife, and the servant howled, tucking her head into her arms.
"It's behind you!" Lahara jeered.
The assassin hesitated, only to be struck with a face-full of lightning. He yelped, and Lahara kicked him in the chest. The force sent him over the rail, and the crunch that followed confirmed he would no longer pose a threat.
Smirking, Lahara dusted her hands, turning to the servant. The elf staggered to her feet, still trembling.
"Oh, thank you!" She bowed her head. "I thought I was done for."
"You're one of Briala's." Sera poked her shoulder. "What're you doing here?"
The servant sighed.
"She asked for this wing to be searched," she said. "I came with two others, but we became separated. Then I found something terrible, so I tried to look for my friends and escape. That was when that assassin caught me." She shivered. "Agents from Tevinter are lurking, and they are planning a most foul coup with Gaspard's soldiers."
"Venatori again?" Dorian rolled his eyes. "I'd thought that was one less headache we had to worry about."
"Corypheus's sure scrounging for all the help he can get," Lahara said. "What did you find, if you don't mind me asking?"
"They are keeping some kind of weapon below ground," the servant replied. "It glows with this blood-red aura, and it infects the soldiers, making them immensely powerful, but also insane. I was lucky to get away when I did."
"Ah, sounds like just what we're after," Lahara said, snapping her fingers. "Guess we'd better check downstairs."
"You will not be able to reach them that way," the servant said. "The stairwell is sealed. But there is a secret passage in the library, behind the fireplace. You need but twist the halla statue's forefoot, and it will open for you."
"Thanks for the tip," Lahara said. "You'd better get out while you still can."
"Yes, I will." The servant licked her lips. "If you find my friends, please help them."
"I'll do what I can," Lahara promised.
The group retreated to the landing, and the servant ran off. Lahara sighed, running a hand through her hair. This was proving to be a fruitful night, indeed.
"So, it appears Gaspard and Corypheus have already formed their alliance," Cassandra spat. "How could that man look you in the eye when he is conspiring with the most dangerous threat in all Thedas?"
"Eh, you know Orlesians," Lahara said, chewing her lip. "But we'll confront him later. First we need to put a dent in his plan."
Squaring her shoulders, the Herald strode to the staircase. She descended back to the hall, making for the library. It was not as large as the main palace's, but no less as extravagant. The ceiling was decorated in gold leaf, the shelves were polished mahogany, and the armchairs were laden with velvet cushions.
Lahara paid little notice, passing the dusty tomes to reach the hearth. A grate protected it, and the mantle bore a halla statue. Behind it stood a portrait of a previous Empress, who was mounted on a horse. Her stare was unnerving, and Lahara swallowed, not allowing her own gaze to linger.
She reached for the halla statue, holding its foreleg between her thumb and finger. As the servant had said, it was not fixed, and Lahara twisted it upwards.
The screech of stone grinding on stone made Lahara's teeth hurt, and she winced, stepping back. The back of the hearth had retracted, revealing a passage that led into darkness. The rune on her hand began to glow, and she absently rubbed it.
"Well, three guesses what's down there," she quipped. "Who wants to go first?"
Rolling her eyes, Cassandra pulled the grate free, before crawling through on her hands and knees. A brief quiet followed, until she called back.
"It is clear."
Lahara slid through next, conjuring a spark of Veilfire for good measure. Cassandra helped her to her feet, and the Herald stared. They were in a dank passage, and damp mould tickled the back of Lahara's throat. A set of stairs led further underground, and fine red dust lined the stone. Lahara frowned. They were definitely on the right track.
Choking back a cough, the Herald took point again, scanning the walls. Her Shard continued to flicker, its light enough to rival the Veilfire's. She kept flexing her fingers, trying to rid the pins and needles. The rune had never been that sensitive to red lyrium before. Her collar clicked, and she took an uneasy breath.
Something else was going on here.
As the passage drew to its end, a crimson glow began to emerge. Lahara tensed, and she walked faster, extinguishing her light. It was starting to remind her of Redcliffe castle, and she shivered. She would not let the Winter Palace meet the same fate.
At last the cellar came into view, and Lahara caught her breath. She darted to a shadowed corner, and her companions followed. Several soldiers were stationed at the exit, their skin crusted with poisonous crystals. A seal had been plastered over the doors, yet it was the enormous red lyrium vein that held Lahara's eye. It sparkled in the torchlight, and a dull ache started to pound behind her temples.
"Maker's breath, how did they sneak that in here?" Dorian whispered. "It's huge!"
"Well, the bigger they are…" Lahara clenched her fist, nodding to Cassandra and Sera. "On my count. One, two…now!"
She sprang into the open, hurling a fireball into the soldiers. The chevaliers cried out, drawing their weapons, and Cassandra charged. Snarling, Lahara threw an ice rune, as Sera and Dorian rained arrows and lightning. Cassandra yelled, slicing through armour and flesh, and soon it was all over.
The Seeker huffed, sheathing her blade. Lahara breathed deeply, wiping her forehead. Her Shard continued to pulse, and she pressed her palm to her side. Ugh, why did it have to sting so much?
"Is our dear Herald getting tired?" Dorian's tone was teasing, but his eyes betrayed his concern.
"No need to get your smallclothes in a twist, I'm fine," Lahara answered, stretching her fingers. "Right, let me get rid of this."
She approached the vein, the blood-red brilliance almost painful to look at. The rune on her hand ignited, and she slammed her fingers into the crystal. The vein bulged, fissures streaking across its surface, until finally it shattered.
Lahara groaned, sinking to her knees. Her right hand burned, and she hugged it to her chest, blowing off the crystal fragments. It seemed she was a little out of practice.
"Lahara!" Cassandra raced to her side. "Your Shard, is something wrong?"
"I'm good, just a bit rusty," Lahara murmured, shaking her head. "I'll get over it."
She staggered back to her feet, surveying the fallen soldiers. Dorian was already crouched among them, searching through. He flung aside pouches and belts, and then his eyes widened.
"Hmm, what have we here?" He pulled out a scroll, scanning its contents. "Aha, these are orders to strike against Celene, and this is most certainly the seal of the good Duke himself."
"Really?" Lahara wandered across and peered over his shoulder. "Hmm, so it is." Her brow creased. "There's no mention of red lyrium, though."
"It is still more than enough proof of his treason," Cassandra said. "And without the means to boost his soldiers, his scheme is foiled. We must warn the Empress at once."
"I guess," Lahara shrugged.
"You don't sound convinced?" Dorian asked.
"Well, don't you think it all seems a bit…easy?" Lahara answered. "And one thing still bothers me…"
A groan echoed from the library passage, cutting her short. Lahara and Dorian blinked, exchanging a confused glance, when something slammed down, sending a shudder across the air.
"Shit!" Sera shouldered her bow, sprinting for the corridor. "Damn it, some prick's locked us in!"
"You're kidding?" Lahara stormed towards her, catching sight of an iron gate. She rattled the bars, but they wouldn't budge. "See, I told you!"
"I wouldn't get so worked up." Dorian nodded to the barrier on the exit doors. "If this was their idea of a trap, it's not a very good one. Any mage worth their salt could dispel this."
He raised his staff, the counter-spell on his next breath, when Lahara's left hand abruptly shuddered. Hissing, she grasped her wrist, and the rift mark flared. White-hot pain poured through her palm, and she cried out.
"Maker, get back!"
Cassandra bolted, shoving Dorian aside, just as a rift burst into life above them. Brilliant green lightning shot out, scarring the floor, and howling shrieks tore through the chamber.
"What shite is this?!" Sera nocked an arrow, but her arm was trembling. A hoard of Rage demons was clawing their way out of the tiles, and they bawled. "I didn't sign up to fight sodding demons!"
"Welcome to the Inquisition," Lahara muttered. Her rift mark throbbed, but she ignored it, bracing her fists. "Don't sweat it, Sera, you can pummel them the same as anything else! Just follow my lead!"
She thrust out her hand, and a spear of ice flew free. It pierced a Rage demon, and Cassandra snarled, cleaving the rest in half. The beast shrivelled away, but Lahara was already weaving past, releasing wave after wave of icicles. The demons roared, chunks of their flaming bodies turned to brittle frost.
"Hey, leave some for us lesser mages!" Dorian scoffed, blasting a demon with his staff. "Just because you can manipulate the Fade with your bare hands, sheesh!"
"Try and keep up, then!" Lahara chimed, although it did little to distract from the pains in her arms. Both the Shard and the rift mark were like knife-wounds, and it was all she could do to keep her concentration.
Why were they hurting so much?
At last Cassandra sliced through the last demon, and the rift distorted. Lahara's eyes narrowed.
"Let's see if I remember how to do this." She reached out, beckoning to the emerald light. The rift mark came to life once more, and Lahara bit her lip. It was like holding a naked flame against her skin, and tears welled behind her eyes. Growling, she expanded her fingers, grasping at the fluctuating energy strands.
"Having trouble?" Dorian asked.
"You're the one complaining I was showing off," Lahara grumbled. Still she struggled, and she let out a frustrated groan. "Ugh, come on already!"
She clenched her right fist, drawing on her Shard's power. The effect was instant, and a jolt set her left hand ablaze. The rift shuddered, and streams of lightning broke out. They shattered the wall, and Lahara grunted, fighting to keep control.
It shouldn't be…this hard!
The chamber began to rumble, and Cassandra gasped.
"Lara, it's not going to hold!" Dorian shot to the doors, but he was too slow. Lahara tore the tangled strands away, and the rift exploded in a starburst of jade. Boiling sparks struck the floor, and Lahara yelped, the tiles melting beneath her feet. She tried to jump, when the ground disappeared and she plummeted into emptiness.
The slipstream snatched her breath, and Lahara crashed into an icy pool. The burning cold tore into her, and she choked, fighting to surface. She clawed at the darkness, unable to tell which was up. Her chest tightened, pleading for air, when a strong hand grabbed the back of her neck. Forced into the open again, Lahara spluttered, her lyrium collar on fire. The hold around her shifted, pulling her to solid ground, and she sagged against her saviour, coughing.
"Lahara, are you alright?" Cassandra took the Herald's shoulders. A fresh cut adorned the Seeker's brow, and it was trickling blood.
"I'm…okay…" Lahara panted, clutching her throat.
"Thank the Maker," Cassandra breathed.
"What the sodding hell was that for?!" Sera snapped; she was sitting against a pillar, rubbing her leg. "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!"
"Lara certainly likes to make things go with a bang," Dorian commented, hauling himself out of the shallows. "Although this hasn't happened before." He shook the water from his sleeves, brow raised. "What were you trying to do, Herald?"
"What do you think? I was closing the rift!" Lahara flapped out her left hand, which was still sore and prickling. "It's not as easy as it used to be."
Dorian's gaze softened. "I see. That is something we might have to look into."
"Perhaps, but right now we need to find a way out," Cassandra retorted. "I can only imagine what gossip is already spreading about your absence, Lahara."
"Yeah, yeah," Lahara sighed. "We'd better get moving, then."
Wringing out her sash, she stood up, studying the area. The crack in the ceiling seemed impossibly high, and Lahara whistled to herself. They had fallen quite a way, into some unknown ruins. Chipped pillars surrounded the water's edge, and a further passage behind led into darkness.
"Well, we're not climbing out, that's for sure," she mused, rubbing the back of her neck. "Better see where this takes us."
She made for the lone corridor, summoning a Veilfire spark. However, nothing happened. Blinking, Lahara tried again, yet still no light came forth.
"What the…" Her eyes widened, a horrifying thought chilling her blood. "Dorian, can you conjure anything?"
"I would hope so." Dorian opened his palm, a fire spell at his fingertips. However, he too found his hand cold and empty. His eyes bulged, and Lahara's breath stuck in her throat. "Andraste's flaming ass, that better not mean what I think it means!"
"What are you lot on about?" Sera scoffed. "I don't see anything?"
Lahara didn't answer, breaking into a run. She dashed through the passage, her shoulders scraping the narrow walls, and it wasn't long before an all-too familiar pressure wrapped around her chest. Her collar flickered, and her breaths started to come in heavier gasps.
Maker, this can't be happening!
She hadn't even crossed the threshold before she knew what would be waiting. Bursting into a crumbling chamber, she skidded to a halt, her mouth dry. She was standing on a bridge, several pieces of its floor missing. Lyrium runes were carved into the supports, and the whole thing lay suspended over an ocean of black mist.
Lahara stood there, barely even noticing as the others caught up. Try as she might, she couldn't tear her gaze away.
"Maker above…" Cassandra shook her head.
Sera was also staring, her breaths coming faster.
"Nope." She started to back away, holding her chest. "Nope, nope, nope, didn't see that, that's not even…shit, oh shit…so much no…"
"Unbelievable!" Dorian's jaw had gone slack. "There's enough Corruption here to sink the entire Winter Palace and half the Dales with it!"
"And this is why I hate social functions," Lahara whined, holding her hands to her temples. "This is the last sodding thing we need right now!"
"Lahara, keep a hold of yourself," Cassandra said. "At least we have become aware of it, and that means we can do something before it becomes a problem."
"Maybe," Lahara muttered, wishing she shared the Seeker's practicality. "Not that there's a lot we can do…"
"Would someone please tell me what that shit is?" Sera's voice was hysterical. She drew her arms around herself, trembling. "It's nothing, nothing, just…sodding…nothing…"
Lahara's gaze softened, and she clasped the elf's shoulder.
"It's alright, Corruption can't do anything to you from up here," she soothed. Sera could only nod, still shaking. Lahara sighed, feeling sorry for the poor girl. It was only natural such a sight would strike so deeply.
"Even so, we can't just sit on this," Dorian said. "I've never seen so much Corruption in one place. And now it's got a hole to escape through…"
He trailed off, and Lahara cringed.
Yeah, a hole I was stupid enough to make…
"So what is our plan, Inquisitor?" Cassandra asked.
Lahara bit her lip. Never mind her mistake; she had to act.
"We need to make sure this stuff can't accidentally spill out," she said at last. "Then we'll have to let the others know, and quietly convince the guests this party's not worth staying for the grand finale."
"Ha, good luck with that," Dorian scoffed. "This is the ball of the century, remember? No-one's going to leave prematurely when the show's barely even started."
Lahara's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, we'll give them a show, alright," she vowed. "Count on it."