Note: Here we go, the latest live from the Winter Palace with Team Lahara!
"Inquisitor!"
Lahara jumped, not expecting the sudden address as she re-entered the ballroom. She flashed Leliana an apologetic glance, before turning to the waiting party. Duchess Florianne smiled, and Lahara had to stop herself rolling her eyes. It had taken long enough to get out of the ruins, and even Dorian's glamour spell didn't hide all the stains on her uniform. But the Herald was not naïve; the Duchess had been waiting for her, she was sure of it.
"Such timing, your Grace," Lahara said, shifting her eyes and hoping Florianne would get the hint. "But if you could…"
"Come now, my Lady," the Duchesses went on, taking Lahara's arm. "You have been very busy foraging around the palace. I may not have another chance to converse with you."
Lahara's eyes narrowed. It seemed Florianne had also been keeping a close eye on her.
"We both have concerns regarding…certain persons," Florianne continued, lowering her voice. "I have information you may find useful." She pulled Lahara towards the dance floor. "Dance with me and I will gladly share, away from curious ears."
"How could I possibly refuse?" Lahara muttered, clenching her fist. There was no getting out of this, but the sooner she got it over with, the better.
She followed the Duchess to the gathered couples. They joined hands, and Lahara sighed, her collar clicking. Any other time, the Herald would have been thrilled—dancing was one of her favourite pastimes—but all that rested on her mind was the bubbling time-bomb beneath their feet. Still, breaking decorum would just stir panic. She would have to endure for now.
The music chimed, and Florianne took the lead. Lahara kept their hands linked, matching time with her steps.
"Tell me," the Duchess began, "what do you know of our civil war?"
"Oh, I know enough," Lahara answered, twisting with her and wishing she was very much a certain mage instead. "It's got everyone inside and outside of Orlais waiting with baited breath, for sure."
"That it has," Florianne said, making alternate turns with her palm pressed against Lahara's. "The affairs of Orlais are central to the world, after all." She brought her lips close to the Herald's ear, and Lahara fought the urge to flinch. "It took much effort to arrange tonight's negotiations, yet one party would try to mark such occasion with the blood of their opponent."
"Isn't that just Orlesian tradition?" Lahara asked, trying to hide her discomfort. The Duchess seemed informed about Gaspard's plan, and the Herald was aware that Florianne also knew she knew.
"Perhaps, but when the stakes involve the security of the Empire, we play by different rules," Florianne said. "We both know what catastrophe should occur if Celene's leadership were undermined."
"Indeed." Lahara's voice was clipped, and she was beginning to think the Duchess was dragging their dance out on purpose.
"You yourself also hold a special role in all this." Florianne's eyes sparkled behind her mask. "You are the honoured guest of my brother, and a curiosity to many. Some may even say a concern."
Lahara didn't miss the veiled threat.
"Well, comes with the territory," she said, not hiding her own menace. "I'm a mage, after all."
She rested her right hand on Florianne's shoulder, letting her Shard glow for a moment. Florianne tensed.
"You…You have little time, Inquisitor," the Duchess said, managing to retain composure. "But the deadliest threat is not the most obvious one." She clasped Lahara's wrist as they spiralled around the dance floor, her fingernails digging through the Herald's glove. "Gaspard is bold, but Briala is cunning. Both will play each other off, and Celene will be caught between them. You must intervene before that elf woman strikes and pushes blame onto my brother. She is hiding in the palace gardens, waiting for her moment."
"How informative," Lahara said, her brows narrowing.
"The night will not be young for much longer," Florianne went on. "Do what you will, Inquisitor, but I recommend you do not delay. There will be no time for second chances."
"Don't I know it," Lahara murmured, and her collar clicked again. "Thanks for the tip."
She tilted the Duchess back, ending the dance to raucous applause. Florianne smiled, releasing her, and they parted with a bow. Lahara let the moment hang as long as she dared, and when the Duchess turned away, she all but bolted back to the upper floor. She'd wasted enough time, although the dance hadn't been entirely fruitless. But who was out to blame who paled to the disaster that would unfurl should Corruption find an escape…
"Inquisitor!" Leliana was waiting on the steps, cane in hand. Lahara practically threw herself at the spymaster. She latched onto Leliana's arm, and several nobles sighed in disappointment, backing away.
"We need to talk, now." Lahara glanced around. "Where's Josie, and Cullen?"
"Awaiting your further command," Leliana explained. "Cassandra mentioned some brief details, but we must discuss what to do next."
She gripped her cane, making a steady walk to the rear balcony. Inquisition soldiers greeted them as they slipped through into the open air. As promised, Cullen and Josephine were waiting, anxiously pacing the tiles.
"Herald!" Cullen's face filled with relief as he approached. "I am glad you are unhurt. But I fear your news does not bode well for us?"
"Sadly, no." Lahara rubbed the back of her neck. "The Duchess decided to add her own two pennies just now, too." She shook her head. "Why can't everyone just get along?"
"Alas, such is the way of the court," Josephine said. "Dorian showed me the papers you found, and one of the Duke's close friends has also confided. It seems Gaspard is trying to frame Briala for Celene's assassination, and he plans to move very soon."
"Oddly enough, Florianne told me the exact opposite," Lahara said, "that Briala's out to pin blame on Gaspard." She scratched her nose. "She's supposedly hanging around in the gardens, waiting for her chance."
"It does not surprise me Florianne would stick up for her brother," Leliana said. "However, the Duchess is not below selling him out, either. She may be throwing smoke, trying to make us look in the wrong corners."
"Not going to argue with you there," Lahara said. "But we need to follow whatever leads we get, as it's not just the Empress' life on the line."
"What are you talking about?" Cullen asked.
"We're standing on a nightmare waiting to happen," Lahara said. "There's an ancient ruin beneath the palace foundations, and it's stuffed to the brim with Corruption."
Leliana's eyes widened, and Josephine let out a squeak. Cullen paled.
"That…That is not funny, Herald," the Commander stammered.
"Believe me, I wish I were joking," Lahara replied. "There's enough of the mist to swallow half the Dales, and it could leak out any second." She brushed back her hair, opting not to mention that the latter was partly her fault. "Anyway, that makes our first priority to evacuate the palace. Then we'll have to find some way to plug the gap 'til Amber comes up with a way to contain it permanently."
"That will not be easy," Josephine said. "A few well-placed words may convince the nobles, but the servants, the bards, even Celene herself will hardly pay heed to what they perceive is an empty threat. She cannot leave until she has secured her position."
"I get that, and I've got a plan that should help," Lahara said. "Meanwhile, Cullen, you need to pull out all of our troops as soon as possible."
"And leave ourselves defenceless?" Cullen shook his head. "I cannot withdraw our entire force, Herald. The risk is too much!"
"And I'm not going to risk getting them all killed!" Lahara snapped. "If a drop of Corruption gets to the surface, it'll be curtains for everyone, and even my Shard won't be able to help."
"I understand that," Cullen said, "as do my soldiers. I can reduce their numbers, but those who stay behind are fully aware of the consequences, as they were in Haven. You needn't be so overprotective, Herald."
Lahara sighed, fingering her lyrium collar.
"Alright," she conceded. "I suppose they can back Josie up, and help in getting the nobles out. Might be an idea to keep some around Celene, too." She turned to Leliana. "Leliana, I'll need you to work your magic, as well. Whatever rumours need to spread, get as many people out as you can, and your spies."
"Of course," Leliana said. "But how do you plan to tackle the servants, and Celene?"
"I made a new friend while investigating earlier," Lahara answered, "and I've already sent her to speak with Briala's people. If Sera can get them to withdraw, I can't imagine the rest of the servants would want to hang around. As for Her Imperial Majesty…" The Herald squared her shoulders, her gaze drifting back to the ballroom. "I'm going to need to borrow you, Josie."
Lahara swallowed, standing alone on the ballroom floor. Every noble eye was upon her, including the Empress's, and she flexed her fingers, nervous. It was silly to feel self-conscious, as it had been her idea in the first place. At least she wouldn't have to worry about Bethany watching; that would have been too much. She could only hope the Empress's fascination with the arts was as strong as everyone claimed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests and Your Imperial Majesty," the ballroom herald announced, "the Inquisition wish to present an unusual request, so they shall speak it thus for your pleasure."
He gestured to Josephine, who stepped forward.
"The Inquisition extends its greetings to all gathered here tonight," the ambassador spoke. "We are humbled to attend this eve, amidst the lifeblood of this proud and beautiful nation." She paused, letting the murmurs of approval spread. "Thus, to honour our ties to this great Empire, our Inquisitor would like to perform the Raventrist, a dance traditional to the Free Marches, for Her Imperial Highness. We hope it will be to your enjoyment."
A surprised gasp rang through the crowd, and Lahara bit back a smirk. The Raventrist was a famous Free Marcher dance, incredibly complex and intricate. Lahara had learned it to prove a point to a Templar in Ostwick many years ago, and the routine had remained with her ever since. It would be sure to hold the guests' attention, and was plenty long enough to allow Josephine and Leliana to plant the seeds for the evacuation.
"The Inquisition honours me with such a gesture," Empress Celene said, folding her hands together. "The floor is yours, Inquisitor."
Lahara licked her lips, taking a deep breath. The musicians took their cue, and struck the first chords. The familiar rhythm soon took hold, and Lahara twirled her arms. Then her feet began to move, and she drifted across the floor. Slow, circular movements, weaving in time with the bells and strings. The blood rushed through every vein, setting her senses alight, and she lost herself to the dance.
The tempo quickened, and so did Lahara's steps. She spread her hands, her twin marks coming to life, and awed cries echoed through the audience. Still she swept across the floor, almost gliding, her body an extension to the melody singing around the ballroom. In that moment, she barely noticed the entranced stares, nor the worries in the back of her mind. All that mattered was the movement, the energy, and the release and exhilaration coursing through every pore.
Eventually the music calmed, returning to its original pace. Lahara mirrored its descent, each twirl and double-step slowing as she came to the platform below Celene. Her face glistened with sweat as she finally halted, holding her pose. The music ended in a brilliant flare, and the nobles erupted into applause. Lahara smiled, bowing low. That had been more fun than she expected.
"That was truly exceptional!" Celene beamed, her eyes gleaming. "You are a woman of many talents, Inquisitor. It is rare such leaders show appreciation for the traditional arts. We are most impressed."
"It was an honour to share such," Lahara answered, still catching her breath.
"Indeed," the Empress said. "It has been long since such a spontaneous display enraptured us so. It deserves a reward."
Lahara fought to contain her smirk. It seemed her plan had worked.
"Then might I ask a simple favour, Your Imperial Highness?"
Celene peered over the balcony, brow raised.
"I understand the importance of tonight's negotiations," Lahara began, "but there are dangers beyond even the Maker's control that lurk below the palace. It would not be wise to linger when they could spill at any moment. Perhaps your business could be concluded at a more suitable venue?"
An amused smile graced the Empress's lips.
"Your warning is gratefully received, Inquisitor, but wholly unnecessary," she said. "The climax of this night is almost upon us, you will not have to wait much longer, I assure you."
She bowed her head, signifying dismissal, and Lahara sighed. Damn it—she'd been so close!
She trudged back to the upper floor, wiping her brow with her sleeve. Still, as she glanced around, there was a definite change in the atmosphere. Many nobles were whispering to each other, and some were starting to slip towards the main entrance, grabbing their servants along the way. Josephine was across the chamber, deep in conversation with several lords, and more guests wandered past her, leaving the vestibule behind all but empty.
"Well, that was simply marvellous!"
Lahara turned, spotting Dorian approach. He gave a slow clap of approval, his eyes filled with admiration.
"Eh, just a little trick I picked up in the Circle," Lahara shrugged. "Never thought it would come in handy."
"Perhaps, but it's really worked wonders," Dorian answered. "You had the attention of everyone in the room, and it let our ambassador and spymaster do their handiwork. And I don't know what they've been saying, but the nobles are marching out in droves."
"That's great and all, but it still wasn't enough to convince Celene," Lahara said. "I think she knows what's going down, though. From the sounds of it, she's got her own plan. She's just waiting for Gaspard to make the first move."
"Of course." Dorian rolled his eyes. "Well, he can't hold out too much longer, so…"
"Hey, 'quissie!"
Both Dorian and Lahara glanced up. The Herald scanned the crowd, when a hand waved at her. Sera was making her way towards them, and her expression didn't fill Lahara with confidence.
"Didn't know you were such a show-off," the elf said, blowing her hair out of her eyes. "But Briala's being a bitch."
"Oh?" Lahara raised a brow.
"She won't pull out her spies, even with Geraint backing me up," Sera scoffed. "Maybe if you slapped her up a bit, she'd listen better?"
Lahara held a hand to her forehead, groaning. Maker, this was hard enough without that woman digging her heels in as well.
"Alright, thanks for letting me know," she said. "I'll go knock some sense into her. You'd better get clear with everyone else."
"Pfft, yeah right." Sera folded her arms. "I'm coming with. Got to make sure you don't ditch out last second, yeah?"
"As you say," Lahara shrugged. "Dorian?"
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," Dorian chuckled. "Besides, a bit of extra firepower at your side wouldn't hurt, no?"
"Not at all," Lahara said. "Let's move."
They took after Sera towards the servant's quarters. Now Lahara could see a true exodus fighting to leave; she would have to find out exactly what Leliana and Josephine had let spread to make it happen so fast.
They wove between the departing nobles, trying not to look too suspicious, when the Herald caught sight of Cassandra. She stood to attention as they neared, her jaw set.
"Is there a problem?" the Seeker asked. "The nobles seem to be leaving amicably, and many are taking their servants."
"Yes, but Briala's being stubborn," Lahara informed her. "We might need to soften her up a little."
"Ugh, typical," Cassandra grumbled. "Then I will also accompany you. I would not put it past her to lay a trap."
"That, and I'm sure you've had enough noble small talk for the new few centuries," Dorian chortled.
Laughing, Lahara took the lead, pushing through into the servant's wing once more. Almost immediately her left hand buzzed, and she flinched, sparks of green emanating beneath her glove.
"Uh oh…" She exchanged a glance with Dorian. "Come on!"
She broke into a run, dashing past the corridors and into the courtyard again. The door to the guest wing was wide open, and lined with a fresh blood trail.
"That wasn't there just now," Sera blurted, nocking an arrow. "Andraste's tits, what's going on?!"
Lahara clenched her teeth, and she bolted straight through. The trail took them to the portico surrounding the garden, and that was when she was half-blinded by jade light.
Swearing, Lahara stumbled, brushing tears from her startled eyes. Even then, there was no mistaking the Fade rift hanging above. Below it stood scores of archers, their bows primed at her. Lahara snarled, her fists clenched. Her gaze fell to the overlooking balcony, where a masked figure paced. At her feet lay an unconscious elf woman with red hair, a bloodied knife planted in her palm.
But it was the shadow behind the masked woman that made the hair on the back of Lahara's neck stand on end.
No way…
A dust monster?!
"Ah, there you are," Florianne smirked, resting her hands on the railing. "You certainly took your time, Inquisitor. Although I hear your performance was not to be missed."
"I put on a good show when I want," Lahara shot back, her eyes never leaving the creature of mist. "What have you done to Briala?"
"Nothing she would not have done to me first," Florianne scoffed, kicking the elf's side. "Still, she played her part well, believing Gaspard was using our red lyrium to empower his soldiers, and thus she kept everyone's eyes off me." She gloated. "I must also thank you, too, for discovering a fresh feeding source for my pet." Her gaze darkened. "Once you are out of the picture, it will feast like never before, then unleash its true strength upon Halamshiral!"
"You think I'll just roll over and let you get away with it?" Lahara snapped. "You have no idea how powerful Corruption is, Florianne; you go anywhere near it, and you'll kill everyone in the Winter Palace, including yourself!"
"Bah, you think your pathetic tales frighten me?" Florianne spat. "You are weak, Inquisitor. Corypheus has given me mastery of his greatest power, and you cannot stop me using it to its full potential!" She pulled a potion from her gown, its contents glowing red. "Once I break into that chamber, your fate will be sealed, and Orlais will bow to its new master!"
"Florianne, listen to me!" Lahara barked. "Whatever Corypheus said, you can't control Corruption, not even with a dust monster!" Her Shard burned, and she held up her hands. "I'll even give myself up as your prisoner, just don't…"
"I will not cow to your fear-mongering!" Florianne shot back. The dust monster growled, and her eyes flared. "Once this beast has had its fill, the Empress will die, and Orlais will enter a new age of prosperity, with me at its helm! Your life is forfeit, regardless!" She beckoned to the archers, leading the creature away. "Kill her, and bring the marked hand as proof."
"Florianne, stop!"
Lahara made to chase, but the rift shuddered, sending thundering pain through her left hand. She hissed, and the archers fired. Dorian was quicker, however, and his barrier sprang up, deflecting the arrows.
"Come back for the rift!" he shouted, charging another spell. "You can't let Florianne break into that chamber!"
Lahara bit her lip, hesitant. That was all well and good, but if she didn't close the rift, the demons would just keep coming…
"We can handle this for now!" Cassandra roared, as if reading her thoughts. "There's no time, go!"
Cursing, Lahara sprinted. She thrust her hands down, summoning a gust of wind, and the force propelled her skywards. It carried her over the balcony rail, and she skidded across the tiles. Briala moaned softly; she was still breathing. Lahara ignored her, bolting after the Duchess's gown that fluttered around the corner. The rift rippled behind her, making her mark throb, and she grimaced. She'd come back; she couldn't let Florianne get to the ruins!
An arrow sailed past her shoulder, and another almost tripped her. Lahara glanced aside, catching another archer on the rooftops. Yelling, she flung out a lance of ice. It hit the roof slate, instantly freezing the entire thing over, and the archer screamed, slipping and falling to her death. Lahara's Shard shrieked, and she cradled it against her chest, still running.
Why does it always hurt like that…
She rounded the next corner, catching the dust monster escaping into the upper floor of the guest wing. The door slammed shut, but the Herald kept running. A quick fireball smashed the adjoining window, and Lahara leapt through, shaking glass shards off her shoulders. Florianne was still just out of reach, fleeing down the stairs.
"Get back here!" Lahara bawled, shooting lightning from her fingertips. The blast singed the wall, only just missing its target. Lahara swore, forcing herself to run faster. She all but slid down the stairwell edge, but when she hit the bottom, an iron grip snatched her throat. Choking, she grappled at the claws at her neck, staring into the eyeless visage of the dust monster. It roared, throwing her into the wall, and Lahara groaned, stars flying across her vision.
"Kill her!" Florianne boomed. The creature rumbled, striking Lahara in the stomach, and she slammed into the floor. Pain screamed through the back of her head and thigh, and she caught its claws with her hands, inches away from her chest.
A boisterous yell echoed through, and suddenly the pressure on her torso vanished. The dust monster howled, crushed against the opposite wall, and Lahara caught the gleam of an axe.
"Couldn't let you have all the fun!" Iron Bull jeered, carving another blow into the creature. It staggered back, trying to reform itself, and he struck again, ripping a hole into its side.
"Are you alright?" Solas's hand came to her shoulder, and he helped her to her feet. Lahara coughed, wiping her bloodied lip.
"I…will be," she puffed, her eyes narrowing. "Bull, let me…finish it off!"
"All yours, Boss!"
Iron Bull tossed the dust monster into the centre of the room, and Lahara lunged. Her Shard exploded, and she rammed her fingers through its chest, seeking the red lyrium core. It came into her palm, and she yanked it free, crushing it in a burst of brilliance. The beast whined, collapsing into dust, and Lahara grinned, shaking her hand clean.
It was over.
"Give up, your Grace." She strode towards the cowering Duchess, her right hand charged. "Before I have to make a real mess."
"No!" Florianne shrieked, shrinking against the wall. "I will not lose! I will summon another!"
She scrambled for the vial of red liquid, raising it above her head.
"No, stop!" Lahara sprawled for the bottle, but she was too slow. The vial smashed into the floor, and the tiles exploded. Lahara was thrown back, pieces of flooring, red lyrium and glass showering around her. The ground trembled, and the ceiling groaned, hailing dust and splinters. As the blast cloud cleared, it was rapidly replaced by black mist. It bubbled up through the cracks, corroding the stone like boiling acid, and the floor started to melt.
"What?" Florianne stared, horror spreading across her features. "This cannot…he said it would…!"
"You sodding idiot!" Lahara screeched. She made for the Duchess, blood-lust in her eyes, but the tiles gave way, pushing her back. The Corruption swept into the gap, engulfing the ground beneath Florianne, and she screamed, snatched into the darkness.
"We cannot stay here!" Solas declared, pulling Lahara from the widening edge.
"We can't just leave it like this!" Lahara barked, shaking him off. "It'll swallow everything!"
"If we hang around, it's gonna swallow us, first!" Iron Bull broke in. "We're getting out, now!"
He grabbed Lahara's sash, dragging her behind him. Lahara staggered after, forced to watch the Corruption fizz and ripple, dissolving everything it touched. It was spreading at an uncontrollable rate, like fire through parchment, and nausea bubbled in Lahara's stomach. Her Shard flickered, aching all the way up her arm, and she dug her fingers into her palm.
I have to do something!
Iron Bull broke the doorway ahead, which brought them back to the garden. The rift was still there, shimmering and spawning endless ranks of demons. Dorian, Cassandra and Sera were backed into separate corners, wounded and losing ground.
"Cavalry's here!" Iron Bull boomed, charging for the nearest Rage demon. Solas followed suit, throwing a stun spell over the Despair demons, allowing the others to regroup. Lahara however was staring at the rift, an idea starting to form. It would be a long shot, but right now she needed anything to try and stop the oncoming disaster.
She joined the battle, blasting through the remaining demons, and her left hand flared. The rift jittered, responding to her mark.
"Seal it!" Solas cried.
Lahara grunted, casting an eye back to the lower guest wing. The cloud of Corruption had almost caught up to them, eating through everything in its path.
"What are you waiting for?" Dorian blurted; the rift was shedding crystals, close to breaking open once more.
"The guest…of honour," Lahara gasped, raising her left hand towards the rift. At the same time, she stretched her right hand to the wave of mist that was almost upon them. The Shard and rift mark came to life together, and she reached deep into her power, forcing the opposing energies to come together. The rift split apart, becoming a yawning chasm, and the black mist flooded straight into it.
"Lara!" Solas's eyes widened. "You can't…not into the Fade!"
"What are you…" Cassandra stopped short, her eyes bulging. "Maker above, that stupid, stupid woman, she didn't…"
Lahara suddenly screamed, falling to her knees. White-hot pain blazed through every vein, and her skull was a rippling cacophony of agony. Bile shot to her throat, and she was violently sick, unable to withstand the magic setting her blood on fire.
"Lara, you can't use the marks like this!" Solas shouted, pinning her left arm down. "They're tearing your body apart!"
Lahara could only whimper, catching herself on her hands. Her Shard fell silent, and the rift above crackled. Jaw tense, Solas jerked her left hand upwards, and the rift mark flared, closing the tear in a dazzle of emerald light. It vanished, but the surge of Corruption remained, it progress redirected.
"Time to go!" Dorian ran to Lahara's side, and between him and Solas, they draped her arms over their shoulders. Lahara was too groggy to protest, managing to stumble away with their support. They hurried back to the ballroom, the quakes growing stronger and stronger. Fissures were spreading through the walls, sending the roof tiles sliding and stairwells crumbling. Eventually the pillars gave way, submitting to the unstoppable force.
The group burst back into the vestibule, which was filled with frantic screaming and panicked guests still trying to flee. It was enough to snap Lahara back to full consciousness, and she pulled free of her companions, her heart in her stomach. The black mist was everywhere, and nothing was spared its wrath.
"Everyone, quickly!" Cullen was waiting by the main entrance, keeping the doors propped open. His brow was soaked, caked in dust, and there was blood on his uniform, too.
Iron Bull charged, catching a chunk of ceiling before it would block the way, and ushered the rest of the group out. Cassandra was out first, Dorian and Solas at her heels, and Sera and Lahara were right behind them. Angry tears burned Lahara's eyes, and she wanted to scream to the heavens.
This couldn't be happening!
Lahara stopped by the waiting carriages, puffing, her collar aglow. A soldier took her wrist, drawing her towards it, but she yanked her hand free.
"Not yet," she said. "Is everyone accounted for?!"
"I…I think…" Cullen wheezed, holding a hand to his chest, "Leliana…Josephine…still inside…"
Ice flooded Lahara's chest, and she grabbed the Commander's lapels.
"Then you get back in there right now and drag them out!" she screamed.
"Herald…I…"
"I will go," Cassandra declared, discarding her weapons. "Where did you see them last?"
"Main…ballroom," Cullen panted. "But the palace…the Corruption will…"
"Doesn't matter, I'll buy her time!" Lahara proclaimed, adrenaline drowning her fatigue. "I swear by everything that's holy, you'll be absolutely fine, Cassie, just go get them, go, go!"
Cassandra nodded. Clenching her jaw, she sprinted back through the gates, into the collapsing palace.
Lahara spat the pooled saliva in her mouth, rushing towards the sinking east wall. Exhausted or not, she had to make this count. Yelling, she held out her hands, the mana burning her fingertips. The charge gathered, pulsing between her rift mark and Shard, and then she slammed her palms against the marble. A surge of lightning ripped through the stone, and the Winter Palace groaned, every crack set ablaze as it was forced to resist the impossible pull.
"Maker…that's…heavy!" Lahara gasped, her muscles shrieking. Her knees started to buckle, every bone in her body wanting to crumble, and she braced her feet apart, desperate to hold the palace up. The drag of Corruption was unforgiving, and Lahara bit her lip, digging into the belly of the earth for strength. The marble crumpled, tearing through skin, and blood started to stream down her wrists.
"Herald!" Cullen spluttered, reaching for her. "You…can't…"
"Let me help!" Dorian bolted, clasping both of Lahara's shoulders, and a flood of warmth flew into her Shard. He was giving her all of his remaining mana. Solas quickly cottoned on, and he too joined her, offering his own magic. They were like drops in the ocean, and Lahara gritted her teeth, her arms shaking from the strain. The Corruption was draining her; sooner or later she'd lose her ability to cast anything.
"Come…on…Cassie…" she grunted, soaked in sweat, her spine stretched to breaking point. She couldn't hold this for much longer.
No…
I can't let them die!
The seconds burned to painful minutes, and Lahara's vision began to swim. Yet before the darkness claimed her, thunder broke from the palace entrance. Cassandra snarled, kicking through the mangled gate. An unconscious Leliana was in her arms, and Josephine was draped on her shoulders, clinging on for dear life.
The Seeker tore across the courtyard, her hair and uniform caked in dust and blood.
"We're out, get clear!" she hollered.
"Lara, come on!" Dorian said, tugging at her shoulders.
"Just…a little…longer…" Lahara choked, her lyrium collar tightening around her neck. She was using too much mana, but she had to make sure the Inquisition could get out of the fallout zone.
"Inquisitor, you can do no more!" Solas roared. "We cannot save everyone!"
"…but…"
"Boss, that's enough, we're going, now!"
Before she could protest, Iron Bull's arms circled her waist, and he yanked her away. Lahara howled, the skin of her palms ripped clean off, her rift mark and Shard blazing like miniature suns. The heat was agony, as if she'd submerged her hands in acid, and the Winter Palace rumbled, unable to withstand the all-consuming Corruption.
Iron Bull grunted, sprinting across the grassy slopes. He didn't slow, even when the explosion of dust and debris caught up to them. Bracing Lahara against his chest, he tucked his head down, running blind through the endless cloud. Lahara coughed, the particles catching her scorched throat. Grit and sand blinded her, and she could only whimper, the heavy thuds of Iron Bull's footfalls the only thing keeping her awake.
Finally the open sky returned, and Iron Bull's wheezes filled air. Lahara felt grass tickle the back of her neck as she was laid down. Iron Bull was gasping, pouring sweat as he collapsed beside her.
"Lara!" Josephine's voice, and a warm hand gripped her. "Lara, are you alright?!"
Lahara tried to speak, but she was caught by another fierce coughing fit. Josephine hauled her upright, letting the Herald lean against her as she spluttered and retched.
A horrible taste filled Lahara's mouth, and she doubled over. Her stomach clenched, and she heaved, fresh blood spilling from her lips. Her Shard was screaming, as if a thousand burning stakes had ploughed into it, and her shaking was uncontrollable. She dug her fingers into the grass, trying to keep her eyes open, when the last of her strength finally left her.
Someone called her name again, and she fell into nothingness.