ACT II: Herald


Note: Themes of depression and heavy anxiety, minor (squint you'll miss it) suicidal thoughts. Please be aware as you go in, this may trigger memories (as I'm using my own personal experiences) and I want to make sure we're all safe.

Remember, you are never truly alone. If it gets bad, I am here for you. PM me if needed.

Thanks to all who continue to come back and read this story, leaving comments and love. You are the true driving force of this story.

Also: Happy holidays, please be safe for the coming New Year.


"I understand the strategy," Solas grunted as he brought a barrier over our heads as we entered the courtyard, "but I usually avoid so much attention."

"Yeah, well." I intoned, adjusting my gloves over my hands to hide the dried blood and pulling my maul over my shoulder. "What do you think I've been trying to do ever since Cassandra had me in shackles?" The others were quiet, their battle nerves keeping them focused and steady, were as mine had me spouting nonsensical humor at my discomfort.

We made a hard march through the courtyard. Mages and deformities waiting for us at the far end by the gate. The echoing, rolling shriek of the dragon circled over our heads, the shape of the creature obscured by the low clouds and rising smoke of destruction. Bull stepped forward and took a hard look up at the sky, sighing.

"You know," he murmured whimsically, "when I wanted you to see a dragon, it wasn't like this."

"Of all the things you had to say…" I muttered angrily, yanking the handle of my maul hard to balance it in my grip. My head shook and we drove ourselves into the fray. Solas cleared the first few invaders by the gate with a sweeping wave of blazing fire, the snow controlling where it went, the mages slamming spells to their feet to keep from burning alive.

They must have not realized Bull and Blackwall gave no shits about scorch marks.

Those two took wild leaps over the fire and together crashed like an avalanche onto the mages, crushing them down between hammer-head and axe, Blackwall's shield acting like a riot-shield and shoving any escaping limbs into Bull's monstrous swings. Solas brought the gates open with a mind-blast, the wooden structures yowling as they were split open, wood pieces flying into the snow. More mages greeted us beyond the gates, and I stood waiting for them, baiting them closer.

They ran through only to meet the business end of Bull's fearsome swing, another two or three instantly dead from the blow. Solas and I rushed after Blackwall, the Warden taking a good portion of the horde with his shield, barking his rage with every vicious hack of his axe. Solas cleared my path with another gust of fire and large spears of ice that shot up from the ground. My legs carried me through the carnage, ignoring the screams and howls behind me.

"Should have taken fucking track, like mom said." I growled at myself, charging the distance from the gates to the last trebuchet standing. Why did he leave just that one? Did he think we weren't a threat anymore? Asshole. I was going to make him eat shit for doing this to my people. The area for the last trebuchet had a handful or so of mages and panic surprised me as a spell tripped my feet, a splattering of ice caught my heel.

My face hit the ground at full-throttle and another spell of electricity snagged on Solas' barrier, igniting the air around me. Blood poured from my forehead, blinding me slightly. The head of my maul was brought in an arch across the ground, clipping the heels of the approaching mage. The arch continued and momentum brought the head to my heel, breaking the ice enough for my foot to yank through. A combat-roll had me swirling through the snow, my maul bounced over me and hit the ground to be my anchor.

Up I went with a shove and cracked the top of my skull against a chin of a charging mage. My eyes rattled in my head and wildly, I took a swing with my maul in retaliation, hitting the man's hip. You fucking dick-stick, why were you so fucking close? The back hand swing brought the maul into his stomach and I launched him backwards into his companions.

Bull stormed past me, anger radiating like the sweat steamed off his shoulders. One poor bastard got his face snagged in an unforgiving grip and Bull crushed his face in with a pull of his fingers. Solas fade-stepped around us, bringing up another wall of ice to block off the rest of the remaining mages. Blackwall jogged past us toward the trebuchet.

"Hurry!" He barked. "We don't have much time before they swarm us!"

"How the fuck do we turn this thing?" I came up to the siege weapon, glancing around its base. I could see anchors around the base and a turnstile wheel at one side, hooked up to the gigantic thing.

"Not easily." Bull grunted. He waved to Blackwall, "Grab that side, I'll take this one. Solas, keep them off of her back — Boss, you're gonna have to turn that thing as fast as you can."

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me, what is this a time trial?" The growl left my lips with no heat. The maul was left within reach of my hand in case shit flew and with all the strength I had left to muster, both of my hands gripped the bottom spoke and heaved into a full turn.

"This shit shouldn't weigh so much!" I complained, hauling another full turn on the device.

"Less whining, more turning!" Blackwall snapped at me, nearly tripping as he pulled from his side, assisting with the speed of the siege weapon. The banter was extremely strange considering the situation we were in, but with Solas' spells whistling in the background, the dragon's shadow haunting us with each sweeping pass, and my struggle with a device that was several hundred years non-essential in my world: I would have considered it normal.

"I swear to God when I die," I grunted, my hand slipping from the spokes for half a second, "I'm going to come back and haunt all of your asses."

"Please don't," Bull growled, his shoulder shoved into the base of the trebuchet, fighting against the snow to keep his balance as he pushed, "last thing I fucking need is your attitude in my dreams, too."

"Bite me, horn dog!"

"What did you just call me?"

"Could we go a bit faster, please?" Solas interrupted with a strained voice. "As entertaining as this is, I feel ashamed at having to remind you lot about the severity of the situation!"

"I concur!" Blackwall bellowed. He was completely hidden by the base of the trebuchet and when I looked up, I could see that the sling and chute were now facing Haven. A glance over my shoulder wasn't enough to tell if the Inquisition had made it over the treeline yet.

"Load it!" Bull shouted to Blackwall, cranking the turnstile of the sling to bring it down into the guide chute. Blackwall hurried to obey and I left them to it, reaching Solas' side to assist him with the invaders. My elven companion was starting to falter, his spells slowing and his arms shook with each new swing. In reach of him, my hand shot out to take his elbow, turning him toward me.

"Solas, clear a path for —" My voice died in my throat, because just above my companion's head was a growing black dot. It was hurtling toward us at a monstrous speed and Solas followed my eyes up into the sky, a sharp gasp shooting through him.

"Move!" I screamed at Bull and Blackwall, "Now!"

It was seconds that we had, both of my companions heeding my words without a thought and made mad-dashes toward my position with Solas. I shoved at Solas' back, throwing him into a run to get him away from the incoming slaughter. The dragon roared, shattering the air around us before lighting it up with a firestorm. The stream of flame struck wickedly close and catapulted us all into the air.

My world spun into shades of gold and black, red flames turning into swirls of hissing snakes as I came crashing down into the ground shoulders first. There was no time to roll, my hips smacked into the ground and starbursts flooded my eyes. The ringing in my ears wavered, voices muffled through the explosive greeting. Everything felt like it was in pain, or on fire. Both, if I was lucky.

A few hard blinks cleared my vision of its drunkenness with a hand to steady my head. Slowly I rose into a sit, looking around for either my maul or my companions. Neither was anywhere within reach or within sight; except for the looming shadow that strutted toward me in the fire. My knees brought me up, shaking in my armor, the figure stood taller than I was, with shards of red lyrium ripping through his skin, fur or feathers covered his shoulders and his face snarled at me.

My feet kicked into a run, trying to escape. Nowhere I looked could I find my friends, terror lacing my gasping breaths and dizzying fear had me feel wild with the urge to fly from the danger. The ground convulsed under me, the thundering gallop of a four-story tall dragon screeching into my face bringing me to a dead stop, a scream dying in my throat.

"Holy motherfucker, you're real," I exhaled disbelievingly, the nostrils of the creature flared as it blinked at me, mouth agape and saliva or blood trickling down its blackened teeth. Another vicious screech sang up its throat and threw me back by force, landing me closer to the lanky, macabre man that cornered me from the other side.

"Enough!" A blast slammed into my back, turning me around to face the walking corpse. Nothing of his person made sense. Slabs of skin were stitched or belted to pieces of cloth or his battle-skirt, his head a horrendously disfigured vision of flesh and rock and his hands weren't much better than blood-dipped claws. My muscles trembled, knees and elbows lost to my shaking.

"Pretender." The man's voice threatened death with a hammering rumble, "You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."

"Y-you need to back the hell up, Satan!" I faltered, stepping back and wincing as my knee buckled, "What — I'm not afraid of you!"

"Words mortals often hurl at the darkness." The creature's voice gave no indication of humor or seriousness, his tone droning through the fire like a steady thrum of a rockslide. "Once they were mine. They are always lies."

The dragon shifted behind me and I skidded away like a spooking horse, alarmed at the heat that covered my back as the thing exhaled into the snow, spots and patches of it melting away into the dirt. Holy fucking hell, would I die from third-degree burns before it ate me? Fuck! Did everyone escape?

"Know me." The man continued, unmoving from his position, his gaze glaring. "Know what you have pretended to be."

"Fucker, keep your aesthetics," I squawked, half my attention on the dragon that nipped at the air behind me. When faced with impossible things, the mind had a tendency to immediately eradicate the more 'normal' of them, if only to ease the sense of insanity that was beginning to set over me. The trauma of seeing a real, living, breathing, snarling dragon was heinously incomprehensible to my struggling brain.

"Listen to me." The man rumbled deadly steady. "Exalt The Elder One. Know the will that is Corypheus!" My eyes shot wide, the impossibility factors suddenly shifting in favor of the twisted, dilapidated man in front of me, Varric's voice ringing in my head; the fuck did he just no, no that's

"You will kneel." The creature commanded, taking a step forward.

"Y-you'll — you'll get nothing out of me!" I declared, but the effect of my rebellious reply was lost as my words stuttered and my throat constricted the use of my tongue. A pause breathed between us, the creature shifting on its feet and turning its mouth at me in disgust.

"You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not." The creature's attention turned away from me, its blackened claw rising from its side, an orb of some sort clutched in its grip. Sparks and tendrils of red electricity danced around it, seemingly harmless to the one who held it.

"I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now." With lightning speed, his other hand shot out and his palm flared red with a version of the magic that had once resided in my palm. A palm I was horrifically reminded of as his magic brought my Mark back to life, white-heat searing through my skin into my tendons and bones.

A scream ripped up from my throat, my other hand snapped to my wrist and held it, though I was sure animal-instinct was trying to yank my wrist from my arm, my knees buckled and my weight hit the ground with a thud, jarring my senses. The Fade-green tendrils lashed out and whipped around my fingers like physical tentacles, pulling at my skin and fingertips, leaving behind gashes and slips of blood.

"It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose." The creature jerked his arm back and whatever invisible length of energy that connected us also pulled me forward by the muscles in my arm.

"Stop it!" Pain bloomed further up my arm and through my shoulder as I fought the pull of his magic, holding onto my wrist desperately, as if that alone would stop his theft of my limb.

"I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as 'touched,' what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." His fingers curled into his palm and dragged me with the movement, my knees breaking into the ground and snow as I resisted. Cramps laced through the muscles of my arm and paralyzed my joints, keeping me stiff.

The dragon growled and rumbled behind me, stepping closer and exhaling its putrid breath over my body, teeth dripping as its mouth opened and swung right next to my left side. I wanted to roll, to bolt from the smell, but Corypheus held me tight and continued to yank me forward, my palm's skin starting to burn away from the split that housed the Mark.

"And you used the Anchor to undo my work!" He growled, the first sign of honest emotion rolling through his words. "The gall!"

"M-maybe don't lose your shit, then!" I screamed at him, painful spasms quaking through my body, my flight or fight response numbed down to senseless, sarcastic humor in an attempt to buy myself time. My watery gaze searched, but there was no sign of my maul, and the dragon's looming body blocked most of my escape options.

My stomach was rolling, nothing drew into my lungs as I inhaled, leaving me gasping and wiggling to get free of the magic that held me prisoner. Tears streamed down my cheeks and nearly the whole left arm had been stripped of any sensation aside from internal third-degree burns, my flesh whole but feeling like it was peeling away from the heat. Corypheus sneered at me, snarling as he stormed over to my prone form and took up my arm.

Holy fucking shit, I struggled in his gasp. His entire claw held the length of my arm as easily as a throwing stick, yanking me up well beyond the ground and letting me dangle, useless and powerless in the air. The dragon roared, probably laughing at me, snapping its jaws wantonly near my back.

"I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person." Corypheus held me up, closer to his face, his head twice the size of mine, the smell of sulfur and coal surrounded him, and for a brief moment, I was sure death had come for me what with the smell of Hell poisoning every inhale.

"I found only chaos and corruption." Corypheus' claws dug into my arm, his gaze darkened with rage. "Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more." With gruesome effort, my legs curled up at my knees and shoved my feet into his torso, hoping to dislodge myself from capture. The creature paid it no mind, sparing not even a glance at my efforts. Terror, bile and sickly, flooded higher in my stomach than before.

He's going to kill me. I'm really going to die.

"I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world." He spat at me, blood trickling down my arm from his claws, flowing into my leathers and reaching my neck. Tears continued to drip from my cheeks, gasps of pain escaped me, my shoulder threatened to rebel and release my joint from its socket.

"Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty." He glanced at my hand, the magic from either of us sparring against each other, neither relenting in its efforts. With inhuman strength, the creature threw me through the air and my back smacked against what was left of the mangled trebuchet. Shivers wracked my body with such intensity that my stomach hurt and withered under my muscles. He snarled at me, claws gripped tight into his palms.

"The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling." He stepped forward, the dragon gurgling next to him, nostrils sheared back into bone, the steam of its breathe swirling between us. The glint of something next to me caught my eye and within seconds I was scrambling for it.

Sword! Swordswordsword — Never mind the fact that I had never actually trained with the sword for longer than an hour, but it was all I had, and it was a lifeline that I wasn't about to be ungrateful to have. I held it aloft, it shook violently in my hands as I pointed it at my impending doom.

"So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation and godit requires." My back pressed against the wood of the trebuchet, a wayward glance allowed enough of a picture to see that the trebuchet would collapse from the force of its counter-weight dropping if I released the lever.

A single, lit arrow pierced the sky and relief came to me, bright like the sun.

They made it. They're alive. My gaze fell back to the creature that was Corypheus, his monologue continuing; unaware of the turn of events around him. I won't live to see this end, but I can make sure they have a chance. My teeth gritted together, new tears falling. I can give them this one last thing.

"And you," Corypheus was nearly on me now, his dragon vibrating with anticipation, "I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die."

A slow, maniac grin took my lips. "Hell hath no fury like a pissed off woman, asshole!"

It was almost magical, watching his eyes go wide as I swung my sword around my head and crashed it against the lever of the trebuchet. The siege weapon howled in protest, the chains screaming as they released and unfurled from their anchors, the counter-weight dropping within seconds. The load within the chute wiggled violently as it was launched, colliding into the mountainside like a meteor.

The dragon turned with its master to watch the destruction.

I ran for my fucking life.

One giant leap took me off the base of the crumbling siege weapon and two more leaps got me over the snowbanks. A crazed and pained stride of my legs got me over the worst of the rocks, the dragon shrieked like hell behind me, the force of its roar slamming into the back of my heart and urging me to go faster. The avalanche was on my heels in mere moments, snow swiftly spinning and rushing my vision.

My boots caught on a rock and sent me sailing into a crevice covered by broken planks. Darkness swallowed me, something hard struck my back and by the time I hit solid ground, my vision had gone white, my consciousness fleeing me.

-0-

The sense of pain came to me first, radiating from within my body as a constant thrum. Everything from my toes to the back of my skull felt a pressure of unrelenting discomfort and twisted white-noise that I could feel even in the numbest parts of my muscles. Vision came to me next, at first swirling in nothing but black and white, then slowly into grays and blues before I realized I was in a cave.

Hearing followed after, and soon it came to my attention that I could hear sobs echoing from the walls. My hands reached around, doing what they could to grasp freedom. Snow melted under my hands, the soil loose and riddled with rocks that cut my already bleeding hands. I reached up around me to find that I was being held in place by broken planks of wood and patches of snow.

With that, I understood that the frantic weeping I could hear was mine, reflecting back to me from the walls of the cave. It made the sobs come up harder, wrecking my body and sapping it of any strength I had remaining. My arms curled around my torso and held onto their opposite shoulders, my legs pulled up as far as they could go to my chest. There I laid, for who knows how long, in a fetal position with my tears cascading into the muddy ground under me.

What was I thinking? Honestly what the fuck. What where am I? What am I supposed to I just want to be home. I just

Not a single coherent thought or plan came to mind, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness smothered me, faced with a creature that literally tossed me around like a ragdoll. The encounter with the dragon was no better. Here I thought I was getting used to the fantasy land and I was just dead fucking wrong!

A scream shredded through my throat, echoing a hundred-fold in the glittering, icy cave. Another after another followed, my tears slipping down my face as each new sound that escaped me shook my core and left me breathless. When the last of my strength had been spent, I went quiet, shaking from only the cold and not the abandonment I felt, the void in my gut a painful reminder that I hadn't died just yet.

Small, hiccuping and broken sobs left my lungs as I turned onto my back and kicked at the debris that acted as my cage. At first my boots slipped from the wood and the weight of the planks crashed into my chest and face. A twinge of anger fueled my efforts, then, and after a few minutes I managed to drag myself from under the mess.

My left arm had stopped bleeding some time before I noticed, but the twisted and lacerated skin was still alarming to look at. Carefully, with my sobs beginning to grow quieter, I picked up handfuls of snow and did my best to clean off my arm. I pulled at the bottom of my tunic under my battered armor and yanked enough out to cut a strip away with my knife in my belt.

It was a shit bandage job, but at least I didn't have to look at the wound anymore. It went a long way in alleviating some of my fear and hopelessness. Another handful of snow went into my mouth, the cold soothing my swollen and irritated throat, the icy sensation slowly slipped down my esophagus and into my stomach, setting me back into reality.

My right hand came up to wipe away at my face with more snow and pushed my hair back. I sat for another few minutes, unmoving, with my eyes closed and lungs taking unsteady breaths. My throat cleared and weak fingers reached for my hair, loosening my braid and refitting it into something proper.

It was another small step to normal. Something I could control.

Exhale. Inhale.

Next step.

There was no weapon in sight, only my small knife. It was tucked away again into my belt, lest I lose it in the cave. My boots were intact and the soles were whole. Good. Gently I rolled onto my knees and prayed for strength on all fours before hauling myself upright. The world spun for a good minute, vertigo getting the best of me.

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale.

Next.

An investigative look around found me a path. Then an archway before it led me out of the cave. My boots took me slow, cautious and careful over the boulders and rocks along the path. My head ducked away from the icicles, my hands catching the wall on occasion when I stumbled. Time and again, I would stop, bow my head when I became overwhelmed with my emotions.

Exhale. Count to three. Inhale.

Keep walking.

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. My thoughts sounded weak even in my head, and I knew it was because I was suffering from disassociating, my mind trying to leave my body on autopilot, to escape the anxiety and fear that grew within me.

What if I get lost, where do I go? How do I find out what path they were on the other side of the mountain, could I find But what if Corypheus survived, did he fly away which way would I go, up?

One rolling thought after another and not a single one could I catch to keep in my grip and formulate a plan, just as before. My head rested against the bitter stone wall of the cave, the sharp strike of cold speared through my temple and a hyper focus came to it, my eyes closing again, my hands against the wall.

Stop, Jaime.

Just. Just one step at a time.

Just keep swimming.

The path through the cave bent around and curved, hollow doors sheltered cave-ins, rocks littered my path, but they lessened with each step I took. Soon, the gentle touch of natural light came from the mouth at the end of the tunnel, a sweet relief to the faint glow of my renewed Mark. It was sad, almost, how disinterested I felt when a scream of Despair echoed in the shallow opening of the path.

"You know," I could hear my voice ring in my ears, unearthly and even, "I'm getting really sick and tired of you. All of you." There were three of them, and without a maul, I was as good as dead. Voices echoed through my palm and my eyes closed in defeat. Of course. Of course I wasn't going to win that easily.

The Mark was all I had left, and if I was going to die, then I was going to take all of them with me.

Two of them charged for me and without a single care in the world, I raised my hand to them. Then, seconds before the first Despair collided into me, my eyes caught it: a bare, slithering flicker of the Veil, weakened and thin. I could tell the story a hundred times and to this day, I would never know what possessed me to reach up and grip the Veil.

But I did, and it ripped between my fingers like wet paper.

A multitude of tendrils snaked out from the tear I had created and captured the demons in the webbing. They howled and reached for me, desperate for escape before they were jerked and twisted, their energies dispersed into the wind with a blast. The force knocked me over, unprepared that I was. My gaze locked onto the Veil's opening, watching as it slowly stitched itself closed, never having been a true rift. My hand came up to my face and I stared, bewildered.

What what did I just do?!

Resolutely, I staunchly decided never to do that again (not until I tell Solas. If I can tell Solas. If he's alive. Fuck.) and picked my way through the splatterings of the demons, or what remained of them from their violent return. Hastily, I made my way out of the cave only to find myself in a snow storm.

"Sonovabitch," I spat, shielding my eyes from the whipping snow with my right hand and striking my left hand out like a beacon. The winter wind wrapped around me, unforgiving in its power. The breath of the wind made it hard to decide which direction to go in, but considering that I was more likely to die from hypothermia than find shelter (the hell I was going back into the cave with demons and no weapon), I trudged on, directionless.

Mostly, I stared down at my feet, watching as the snow immediately filled the space my boot left with each new step I took. Occasionally I would look up to keep myself from walking into a tree (if I could see it, that was) and continued this pattern for a long while. There was no way of knowing how far I was from Haven, or perhaps I was clear on the other side of the mountain range? Emptiness drove me, hopelessness making the idea of death a peaceful one.

Maybe hypothermia wasn't so bad a way to go?

Stop that.

Right. Just keep swimming.

In the end, the storm faded away the higher up I got, the mountain's cliffs looking vastly unfamiliar to me, but they blocked out most of the storm so they were a priceless vision to my eyes. The night sky returned over my head, the stars bright and twinkling, winking at me from overhead. The moon was full and with the storm over, offered me enough light to continue.

"Is that…?" A small, smothered came fire sat against a rock for protection. The sight of it in the lonely mountain was jarring. Slowly, I made my way over to it, noodle legs protesting with every step. At the campfire, I reached out with a trembling hand and could feel the barest echoes of heat.

"Embers?" I mumbled in surprise, digging my hand into the coals. Gentle sparks flew up and immediately disappeared with the cold wind, but the inner gut of the campfire was still warm from the dying embers. My gaze flashed around me, wondering who could be out this far. "Is this… recent? Hello!"

Desperate to find someone, anyone, an enemy at this point — I trudged on, digging my way through the snow, my hands acting as shovels each time I fell, but I could hear voices bouncing through the mountain's cliffs. A choking sob of happiness escaped me as Cullen and Cassandra's voices found my ears.

I sunk to my knees in the snow, hugging my arms around my stomach as I doubled over, exhaustion winning the battle against my will. For the second time in who-knows-how-long, I willingly gave over into the darkness just as Cullen's shadow reached me.

I made it home.