Note: To anyone still reading, my apologies, I have really, really lost all interest in this story, so updates have and will be a bit erratic. I will still try my best to finish it however!
Lahara burst through and hit the ground running, skidding over the rocks. Her momentum was too much, and she lost her balance, careening into a shadowy figure ahead. The voice that cried out was male, and they both slammed into the ground, drenched in ankle-deep water.
"Ugh…ow…" Lahara shook her head, clearing the stars. Then a firm hand pushed her aside, accompanied by a groan.
"Maker, you're heavier than you look," Nathaniel grunted, rubbing his side. "Where did you come from, anyway?"
"Your imagination, clearly," Lahara said dryly, shuffling back to her feet. Brushing back her damp locks, she offered her hand. "Are you alright?"
"Save the bruising you've just given me, yes, I am." Nathaniel took the Herald's palm, standing once more. "I'm glad you found me, but have you seen anyone else?"
Lahara raised a brow. "They're not with you?"
Nathaniel shook his head. "All I remember is Adamant's east turret collapsing, and we fell into a rift. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself here, and it didn't take long for demons to come hunting." A shiver ran through him as he drew his bow, wary. "Have we truly come through into the Fade?"
"Afraid so," Lahara said, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Maker above." Nathaniel sucked in a sharp breath. "I…how could we even…"
"I know," Lahara replied, studying the maze of stone around them. "I never thought much about the carpet, either."
Nathaniel's lips twitched, but didn't quite make a smile. He clenched his fist.
"Well, whatever happened, we have to get back to Adamant," he said. "Can you find a way out?"
"I should be able to," Lahara said, glancing to her rift mark. "We'll need to find the others first, though."
"Of course." Nathaniel raised a hand to his eyes, scanning the clouds. "Be on your guard. I've no doubt more demons will be lurking nearby."
Nodding, Lahara stepped forward, raising her left hand. It flickered and spat, scalding her palm, and she hissed, wishing her brother could calm it again. The revelations he'd spoken about still chilled her, but she forced them aside. There would be time to dwell on them later.
Eventually the rift mark settled, and Lahara let it reach out, listening for the various resonances. There was much more interference compared to last time, so she closed her eyes. Slowly, she was able to pick through the cacophony of sound. She began to hum, testing the harmonies for familiarity. The bracelet around her wrist warmed, and she bit her lip, picturing the image of her companions. Almost, almost…
At last, a flash appeared in her mind; Cassandra, fighting off a hoard of Rage demons. The Herald opened her eyes, and her left hand tingled, drawn towards the right-hand path.
"This way!" She broke into a jog, splashing through the puddles. They dashed through the towering rocks, Lahara's rift mark acting as a compass. But the corridors of stone were endless, and seemed to stretch to nowhere. Dead-ends morphed into steep passages, and it was quickly evident they were going in circles.
Snarling, Lahara threw out her right hand, commanding the cliffs to her will. The Shard flashed, and the mountains split apart, creating a path. Lahara clenched her teeth, her bracelet burning again. It was already half gold, but she didn't care. If they arrived too late…
A shudder ran through the chasm, and the walls fissured, leaking water. The level rapidly rose, and Lahara cursed.
"It's going to flood!" Nathaniel yelled.
Lahara's brows narrowed. She stopped running. The water bubbled to her waist, but she focused on the cliff ahead. Poising her hands, she muttered a spell, and a bolt of arcane magic slammed into the stone. It exploded, and the water escaped, becoming a waterfall.
The shriek of demons echoed, and Lahara gasped.
"Look, down there!" Nathaniel gestured to the bottom of the cliff. The newly-formed waterfall emptied into another river, and in its shallows hunched Cassandra. She was on her knees, supporting her side with one hand, desperately clutching her shield in the other. A pair of Rage demons flanked her, trying to deal a final blow, though the spray made them hesitate.
"Leave her alone!" Lahara bellowed, firing a spear of ice from her fingertips. In seconds it doubled in thickness, and one of the Rage demons screeched, pinned to the cliff behind. Nathaniel's arrows tore through the other, and Lahara jumped, diving into the pool beside the Seeker. Another blast of ice, and the demons vanished.
Cassandra gritted her teeth, dropping her shield.
"Cass!" Lahara knelt in the shallows. She touched the Seeker's side, and blood stained her fingers. "You're hurt, let me…"
"No." Cassandra pushed the Herald's hand away, her eyes on the bracelet. "My wound is not serious, do not waste your power."
Lahara rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I've got plenty of reserve, just…"
"I would heed Cassandra's wisdom, young mage." A woman's voice broke through. "Maker knows it has saved me many times."
The hairs on the back of Lahara's neck stood on end. She released Cassandra, bracing her fists as she looked to the newcomer. At once the fire spell died on her lips, and she stared.
Standing before them was a white-robed woman, wearing a striped mitre. Her face was craggy and aged, but her eyes sparkled, and she gave a bow. Cassandra's eyes widened, and she held a hand to her mouth. Nathaniel, too, was dumbstruck, and his bow quivered in his hand.
"Most…Holy?" The Seeker's voice was a whisper. "But…it cannot…"
Divine Justinia smiled.
"I understand this seems impossible, Cassandra, but it is very much the truth." She entered the shallows, casting ripples in the water. "It is good to see you again." She turned to Nathaniel. "And you, young Warden. I am sorry for your friends who lost their lives in the explosion."
Nathaniel scowled, unable to tear his eyes away.
"I know the Chantry teaches that souls can linger in the Fade," he said, "but this…"
Lahara faced the woman, wary. "Who are you, really?"
"You do well to mistrust what you see," Justinia commended. "However, if you wish to confirm the truth, ask your Shard. It will reveal what you wish to know."
Lahara clenched her right hand.
"Now I know you're a fake," she declared. "You couldn't possibly know about my other mark."
"The Fade does not exist in isolation, young mage," Justinia said. "I have been watching since the Conclave was destroyed. And the Shards of Andraste unite more than just the two realms." She gestured to the rune on Lahara's hand. "If I am a demon sent to deceive, you have the power to expose me. Use it, for I have much to tell, and I would prefer I had your trust to begin with."
"It's a trick, Lara," Nathaniel growled, nocking an arrow. "Destroy it, before…"
"No!" Cassandra forced herself upright and grasped Nathaniel's wrist. "She…it has done us no harm, we need not provoke it further." She turned to Lahara, hesitant. "If what this spirit—apparition, soul, whatever it is—claims is true, then prove it to us. Please."
Lahara sighed.
"Fair enough." She raised her right hand, letting the rune come to life. Justinia approached, keeping her arms by her sides. Lahara listened, sceptical, when suddenly she caught the late Divine's resonance. It was almost as loud as her own, but not quite substantial. Her eyes widened.
Just like Joseph's.
"She's the real deal," Lahara murmured, dropping her hand. "This is Divine Justinia's soul!"
"Truly?" Cassandra swallowed, seeming to fight back tears. "But how? How have you held on for so long?"
"I have you to partly thank," Justinia said. "You, and Leliana, and the Chantry, and every citizen who still remembers me. It is your remembrances that have let my spirit linger."
A tightness gripped Lahara's chest, her brother's words echoing back.
"The memories of the living let souls keep their form," she uttered.
Nathaniel frowned.
"But if that's the case, why isn't the Fade full of souls?" he asked.
Justinia smiled sadly.
"Very few can resist the draw of the Black City," she answered. "It is where our souls should be, by the side of the Maker. Alas, I have staved off my end, for there are important things you need to know, and only I can impart such."
"Oh?" Lahara raised a brow.
Justinia's gaze fell to her rift mark.
"You still do not remember how you acquired your first gift," she said, "and if you are to overthrow Corypheus, that must be set right."
Lahara's ears perked up, and she brushed her left hand. "Huh, I always thought I hit my head too hard."
"No," Justinia said. "Those memories were taken from you, and for good reason." She paused, folding her hands together. "Corypheus bargained with a Nightmare demon, and it has grown fat thanks to the turmoil on Thedas. Now its tendrils have burrowed deep, corrupting those who venture too near. It is the one enthralling the Wardens, and must be destroyed. But until its hold on you is removed, you will not be able to defeat it."
Nathaniel clenched his jaw. Lahara rubbed her temple.
"Sounds simple enough," she drawled. "So where is this demon?"
"I can take you to its lair," Justinia said, "but you must reclaim your memories first. The Nightmare split it into two fragments. One I have managed to find already, alas the other you will have to seek out." She nodded to Lahara's left hand. "Your mark may be able to help. Once you have recovered it, I will come and find you again."
She stepped backwards, her body starting to glow. Before she completely vanished, she stretched out her arm, and a band of mist escaped her, coiling around the broken ice spear.
"What's that?" Nathaniel approached, making to touch it, but his hand simply passed through.
"I think I know," Lahara said, wading towards the vapour. It looked eerily similar to the misted gates that led to the Black City, and the Herald could guess it would have the same effect. Only this time, it would be her own memory.
Taking a breath, Lahara plunged her hand into the haze. The rift mark sparked, and Lahara cried out. The rocks and sky fizzled away, replaced by sturdy bricks and torches.
The Conclave.
"What is the meaning of this? Why are you of all people doing this?"
Darkness…smoke…torchlight…magic…silver griffin…
"Keep the sacrifice still."
That voice…he's…the orb, that power…
"Please, someone help me!"
So bright…so many Wardens…why…what in the Maker's name…
"What's going on here?!"
No…stop them…so much magic…I can't…my hand…it burns!
A surge shot through Lahara's left palm, and she groaned, collapsing to her knees. She clutched her hand against her chest, the mark screaming as if she'd plunged it into a forge.
"Lahara!" Nathaniel crouched beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Lahara could only acknowledge him with a nod, still trembling. She forced herself to breathe deeply, the lyrium in her collar flickering. Yup; just like those damned gates.
Nathaniel watched, his expression grave.
"We saw it, too," he said quietly. "It seems your gift didn't come from Andraste, after all."
"Not the one everyone claims was from her, anyway," Lahara muttered, clasping and unclasping her fingers. She had never truly believed that in the first place, and it was just like her to have stumbled upon such power accidentally. Still, it did little to remove the bitterness that indirectly, she was responsible for the tragedy at the Conclave. She'd gone there to make up for a lifetime of apathy and indifference, and instead had soiled her hands with the blood of the innocent.
And then they made me their Herald…
"Indeed." Cassandra's voice held a new edge, her eyes darkening. "But I am more concerned about that host of Wardens who were holding the Divine hostage!"
Nathaniel snarled.
"It was obvious they were under Corypheus's thrall!" he retorted. "The Wardens have always been neutral, we'd have no reason to betray the Divine!"
Cassandra scoffed. "Given their recent desperate behaviour, I would not put it past them."
"Don't you dare!" Nathaniel snatched a knife from his belt. "I lost my dearest sisters in that disaster, and I never sided with Clarel. I will not have you spit on their memory!"
Cassandra bared her teeth. She reached for her sword, when Lahara cut in.
"Andraste's ass, knock it off, both of you!" The Herald dragged herself upright, stumbling between them. "Now is not the time to get all cut-throat. We have to focus on getting out of here."
"Agreed." Nathaniel sheathed his weapon, turning back to the Seeker. "We will deal with this once we return to Adamant."
"You had better believe we will," Cassandra threatened, releasing her sword hilt.
The pair exchanged keen glares, and Lahara shook her head. This was too much; she could only pray their tempers wouldn't fray to nothing before they found a way out.
Something prickled her wrist, and she glanced to her bracelet. It had filled again, leaving barely a quarter silver. Sighing, Lahara licked her lips. It would be just enough to Fade-seek the other memory fragment. After that, however…well, best not to think about that.
Lahara closed her eyes, lifting her left hand once again. With one fragment recovered, she had an idea of what to listen for, although that was only half the battle. There was so much emptiness around her, so much white noise to sift through. A dull ache began to throb behind her temples, and Lahara grimaced, trying to concentrate. The pain spread to her right hand, and nausea built in her throat.
At last a flash came—a flooded valley to the north—but it barely lasted a second before Lahara was violently sick. She staggered, and Nathaniel caught her. Lahara groaned, hissing at the acid taste, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. Her marks were hot and sore, her palms numb, and her collar burned.
"This isn't good." Nathaniel's gaze brimmed with worry. "Your marks are poisoning you, Lahara. They have to be."
Lahara managed a shaky nod, wiping her mouth.
"I…know…but…no choice," she rasped. "This…way."
She pulled free of Nathaniel, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Grimacing, she kept still, letting the giddiness pass. When her head stopped spinning, she set out, making for a narrow pass in the rocks. Her left hand glowed brighter, and she clutched her wrist. The mark was much more easily stirred in the Fade, and Lahara could feel the magic coursing up her arm. Even without casting, it was absorbing mana, meaning her time limit was still ticking. She bit her lip, trying not to watch the ever-shrinking band of silver.
The trail descended, cutting through a series of caves. Lahara walked briskly, a shiver prickling as she felt something peering from dark crevices. She didn't have long to think on it, however, as a bellow echoed from the lower valley.
"Was that Iron Bull?" Cassandra raised a brow, scanning the landscape.
Lahara scowled, also searching, when a whisper danced through her thoughts.
Protect…keep safe that which was stolen…return to its rightful…too many…piercing arrows of icy despair, smothering…can't breathe…can't see…
The Herald's eyes widened. "Cole's here, too!"
She broke into a clumsy run, sending the loose gravel flying. The path twisted left and right, before it ended at a low overhang. The remains of a drained lake spread below, colour and fire illuminating its eastern bank. And in between stood Iron Bull and Cole, fervently fending off Despair demons hungry for blood.
"Stay here, Inquisitor," Cassandra said, drawing her sword. "Under no circumstances must you use your magic!"
Lahara bristled, but didn't argue. Already the dizziness was coming back, so she crouched behind a boulder, as Nathaniel nocked an arrow. Her vision blurred, and she rubbed her eyes. Maker, who needed the bracelet; she felt rougher than a ship caught in the Waking Sea.
Eventually Iron Bull cried a victory cheer, and Nathaniel shouldered his bow. Lahara let out the breath she had been holding. They were safe again, for the moment. She made to stand up, but her legs swayed, and Nathaniel had to catch her.
"Easy." He anchored an arm around Lahara's waist, and they walked over to the others.
"Am I glad to see you, Boss!" Iron Bull boomed, slapping Lahara on the back. "You look absolutely peachy."
Lahara coughed, managing a pained smile.
"S'alright, I'm sturdier…than I look." She grimaced, leaning a little heavier on Nathaniel. The light-headedness wasn't going away, and it was taking all her willpower to stay on her feet.
"You're about as convincing as Krem after a few casks," Iron Bull joked. "What's up?"
"Just…bit high…on lyrium," Lahara muttered. Her collar clicked, and she drew deeper breaths. Cole kept his gaze on her, his eyes pale and piercing.
"You must be, after throwing us into the damned Fade," Iron Bull said. "I just hope you can get us out."
Lahara nodded. Before she could reply, however, Cole abruptly spoke.
"You aren't whole anymore." He continued to study the Herald. "Gaps in your heart, splitting, shattering like ancient empire's fall, a spider's web unravelling in winter's storm."
A chill ran through Lahara, and she tensed. Something told her he wasn't just talking about her missing memories.
"We're looking for Lahara's lost memory of the Conclave," Nathaniel said. "Have you seen anything that looks like a ring of mist?"
Iron Bull blinked.
"As a matter of fact…" He gestured to Cole, who brought forth his hands. A band of silver vapour danced over his palms, and Lahara's rift mark sparkled. "One of the demons we fought dropped it, and they seemed pretty keen to get it back. Knew it had to be valuable, whatever it was."
"Sounds…about right," Lahara croaked. "Can…I have it?"
Cole stepped closer, offering the prize. Cautiously, Lahara touched it. Her fingertips brushed the mist, and the reaction started, stealing her breath.
So dark…cold…this place…my hand…hurts…hurts so much…
Chittering…claws…Maker get up, get up!
"Up here!"
Voice…hers…she…survived?
"Quickly, the demons!"
Run…run, have to run…spiders…almost…the cliff…no time!
"Hurry!"
Her hand…still warm…that light…a rift…
Run, run!
"Keep running!"
A scream…too bright…I can't…help…
Lahara yelped, her mind slamming back to the present. Nathaniel kept a strong grip, preventing her from falling, but her trembling was uncontrollable. However, not all of it was due to the mana rush in her veins.
"I…she…" Lahara couldn't hold back her tears, and they glistened, rolling down her cheeks.
She saved me.
The Divine saved me.
She saved a lazy, weak, stupid, selfish, useless mage, when she could've…
Cassandra's gaze softened. She took Lahara's arm, gently squeezing.
"It would have been just like Justinia to do that," she said. "She truly did hold such love over all. I am glad that…even at the end, she never sacrificed that."
Lahara bowed her head, ridden with guilt. It had never been Andraste who'd delivered her from the Fade. It had been the Divine herself all along.
"Why?" Lahara mumbled, brushing away her tears. "She was so much more important than I was. I wasn't worth…she shouldn't have…"
"It was her choice, Lahara," Cassandra said. "And much as I still lament her loss, I know her decision has proven wise. You have made the Inquisition what it is, and we have done so much good. I am only sorry Justinia could not see first-hand what we have achieved, thanks to you."
"The Inquisition is a farce, and the old crone was a fool to save you!"
A dark, rasping voice echoed across the lakebed, and Lahara started. Iron Bull snarled, his axe returning to his hands, and Cassandra and Cole pressed closer, their weapons also drawn. Nothing appeared, yet the voice continued to chuckle.
"Poor, poor Herald," it mocked. "Ever closer does your end approach, a death more agonizing and final than any I could impart. I am almost sorry the most devastating blow will not be by my hand."
Lahara's lip curled. She'd heard that voice before, and the embers of long-forgotten pain ignited inside.
"Show yourself, Nightmare!" She pushed away from Nathaniel, standing alone. Anger was more than enough to banish her sickness, and she clenched her fists. After Joseph's death, that voice had haunted her for months, instilling terror into her heart, into her dreams. It had made her life miserable, almost unbearable, until she had finally found a way to shut it out.
Payback was long overdue.
"You think you'd stand a chance, even with your magic?" The Nightmare gloated. "By all means, fabled Herald. Set upon me with your Shard, and I will enjoy watching your soul shatter!"
"You don't scare me!" Lahara hissed. "Not anymore. But it seems you're a little reluctant to come out of your shell?"
"I need do nothing, and you will still die," the Nightmare scoffed. "And not just die. You will be lost from existence forever, your soul like dust in the aether. Joseph will disappear, with no-one else for his remembrance. And dear, sweet Bethany won't even be heart-broken, for her memory of you will vanish just the same!"
"You haven't the right to even speak her name!" Lahara roared, her mismatched eyes blazing. "Face me, coward, and we'll see whose soul will become dust!"
"Then find me, brave Herald," the Nightmare answered. "My servant will be sure to show you the way!"
Something rippled across the air, and the ground erupted into blinding light. The group scattered, when a huge Pride demon came into being. It screeched, twin whips of lightning in hand, and lashed out. Thunder crackled, and Lahara dodged, the cliff behind her scorched into rubble.
"Break its barrier!" Cassandra ordered, regrouping with Iron Bull. Despite her wound she stood straight, her sword angled at the beast. Nathaniel fired several arrows, though they were burnt to ash in mid-flight. Iron Bull growled, waiting for an opening.
However, before they could begin an assault, a blaze of golden light burst through the rocks. The Pride demon hesitated, entranced by the approaching brilliance. The rays coalesced into a ball, then shot forward, slamming into the demon's chest. The creature howled, its innards melting from the heat. Blood poured from the burns, and finally it collapsed, a dead mass of charred flesh.
A pained roar echoed in the distance, and the mountains behind ruptured. Lahara stumbled, having to catch herself on the bank. Eventually the dust settled, and Lahara stood, squinting along the new pass. It led to a set of jagged rocks, and right above swirled an agitated rift. The same one which had brought them here from Adamant.
The golden orb flickered, catching Lahara's eye. She watched it hover, then take on a more humanoid shape. Gradually the brightness dimmed, and when it vanished, Divine Justinia stood in its place. She held her chest, biting back a grimace.
"Most Holy!" Cassandra ran to her side, though hesitated to touch her.
"I am fine," Justinia said, wiping her brow. "But it seems the Nightmare has grown impatient." She flashed a warning look to Lahara. "Young mage, I have no doubt it wants your Shard. Whatever it tries, you must not use its magic against it."
"Think I heard that the first time," Lahara muttered, glancing to her bracelet. Only a finger's breadth of silver remained.
"The Nightmare's taunts were not without foundation," Justinia went on. "You must be extremely careful." She tensed her jaw. "Come, the creature guards the exit."
"Good. I'm not leaving 'til it's dead," Nathaniel rumbled. "For murdering my Warden sisters and turning my Order against itself, I will make it suffer!"
"I'm going to enjoy knocking that bastard off its pedestal, too!" Iron Bull said, cracking his knuckles.
"Likewise." Lahara squared her shoulders. "Let's go."
The Divine nodded. "Good luck. I will try to help, once I am recovered a little."
She disappeared into gold again, leaving nothing but the new path. Nathaniel took the lead, his gaze hardened. Lahara stuck to the rear, unable to shake the dread feeling in her chest. Both her rift mark and Shard pulsed, and she took a deep, deep breath. For all her bravado, the Nightmare's goading had cut deep, and she couldn't get its words out of her head.
And what did Justinia mean, 'his taunts weren't without foundation'?
Such thoughts still plagued her when they arrived at the foot of the rift. A raised platform of rock made up the ground, its edges dropping into nothingness. Crowns of spiked rock grew around the sides, like petrified trees locked in twisted torment. A gap was visible on the other side, leading to a hill that touched the heart of the rift. The way out.
"Welcome, Herald!"
The Nightmare's voice ripped through the air, and a corner of the rocks exploded. Lahara snarled, clenching her fists as a huge spider-like creature broke through the debris. It walked on spindly legs attached to a bulbous body, and what looked like the corpse of a man was stuck to one of them. It lumbered onto the platform, and the corpse's eyes snapped open, glowing with red emptiness.
"Your time has come," the Nightmare proclaimed. "If not by my hand, then by the hand of the Shard that taints your soul! It will destroy you, and you will disappear from the memories of those you love and never return!"
"I've heard enough!" Lahara spat, swallowing the misgivings in her chest. "You want to see a true nightmare, then have this!"
She thrust out her palm, letting the mark draw power from the Fade. Her bracelet glowed, but before the final sliver of silver disappeared, she released the energy. The shockwave was brutal, snaring the Nightmare's body and severing two of its legs. Iron Bull and Cassandra yelled, seizing the opening and striking any piece of exposed flesh they could find. Cole circled the demon, attacking where he could, and Nathaniel shot arrows like a madman, peppering the creature's body.
The Nightmare groaned, sagging on its legs. Thick gobbets of blood and slime pooled down its back, and the corpse let out a shriek.
"You cannot defeat me!" It lashed out, swiping Iron Bull and Cassandra aside. The two cried out, losing hold of their weapons and hitting the wall of stone. Iron Bull grunted, managing to clutch one of the twisted pillars, and with his free hand he grabbed Cassandra before she would fall. The Seeker's face was bloody, and she gasped, holding her right arm dead still.
Lahara swore. She bolted, reaching out to help, but a claw stomped in front, blocking her path.
"My, is that all it takes to overcome the great Herald of Andraste?" the Nightmare laughed. "Your Shard could erase me in an instant! Are you truly afraid of your own power?"
"Not falling for it!" Lahara growled. Her eyes fell to Cassandra's fallen sword, which was just out of reach. She met eyes with Cole, and he nodded.
The boy charged, driving his dagger deep into the Nightmare's rear leg. The demon bellowed, its body sagging, and Nathaniel fired; a poisoned arrow right into its eyes. Lahara winced, the volume of the creature's screams blowing out her eardrums as she retrieved the sword. With the Nightmare blind, she ran straight to its main body, plunging Cassandra's blade in its heart.
The Nightmare shrieked, rearing like a panicked horse. Lahara passed through its flailing legs, skidding to the platform edge and extending her hand. Cassandra snatched it, freeing Iron Bull so he could pull himself up. Lahara heaved, dragging the Seeker to solid ground. Cassandra whimpered, still not moving her right arm.
"Treacherous fools!" The Nightmare retreated, throwing back its head. "My servants, aid your master! Destroy the Herald!"
"It's calling for reinforcements!" Nathaniel yelled. "I'll distract it. Everyone get to the rift!"
"No!" Lahara cried. "I'm not leaving you behind!"
"I won't let it control the Wardens anymore!" Nathaniel shot back. "Get back to Adamant, help the ones who're still left!"
"You can't…"
Lahara was cut off as the ground trembled, an army of Pride and Rage demons blustering through the pass. There were too many to even count, and now her bracelet was completely gold. She had nothing left to draw on.
"Come on, Boss!" Iron Bull draped Cassandra's arm over his shoulder, racing to the rift. Cole dashed behind them, slipping through the gap.
Meanwhile the Nightmare groaned, struggling to right itself. Nathaniel however stood his ground, drawing a fresh arrow. Lahara bit her lip, about to run to him, when the Nightmare struck the floor. Its claw ripped clean through the rock, creating a chasm and forcing her back.
"Nathaniel!" Lahara shrieked, her eyes filling with tears. "Fall back, that's an order!"
"I'm sorry, Lara." Nathaniel took a breath, facing the demon platoon. "Tell Beth I'm going to miss her, and Alistair, too. And tell Yara…" He stopped himself. "No, tell Elissa that I'm sorry for what my father did to her, and that our debt is repaid." He stood tall, his arrow aimed at the first Pride demon. "The honour of the Howes is finally restored."
Lahara cried his name again, but a hand snared her wrist, and she was dragged into the rift.