Char: Male x Male (Pairings are Surprise). Female x Male (Pairings are surprise)

ch sum: What's that about a twisted veil?

Children of The Veil

Camp

He was so extremely pale, you could see his veins through his skin, Dorian noted with a slight frown. His lips were turning blue too. Where he once mumbled from time to time or made little barely noticeable jerky movements, he now lay still in Bull's arms. Dorian tried to feed more magic into the prone body, but it didn't seem like anything he did was working. The elf's body temperature was steadily dropping and his breaths becoming fainter. The changing weather was not helping in the least.

Dorian admits – he'd been hovering over the elf more than he should. For a reason he didn't want to acknowledge, he'd come to be fond of the elf. He wanted to pass it off as him just being worried for the elf's wellbeing but – that was just wishful thinking. He knew nothing about him other than the fact he was an elf – Dalish he could tell because the markings on his face. He hadn't actually been able to see them until the elf's skin took on the unhealthy coloration it had now. The markings were a pale peach in color. He wasn't sure what the markings meant because he'd never seen this type of complex design before.

He knew the Iron Bull was giving him odd looks. He'd just stare at the elf, feeling a gloomy cloud blow in. He didn't want to admit it but – if this elf died in front of him, he didn't know if he could handle that.

Currently, Bull and Dorian were sitting around a fire made by Dorian. They decided to rest for a bit – they still had a good 17 hours of travel left ahead of them and it didn't look like the elf would survive half the trip. "He's not looking too good," Bull commented needlessly.

Dorian could see that. If they didn't get to the main camp soon, the elf was surely to die. They'd be lucky if he made it through the night.

"Dorian," Dorian snapped his gaze up from the elf to look at Bull. "Stop it."

"Huh? What?" His wit failed him at this point. What did Bull mean by stop?

"You're blaming yourself. None of this is your fault. If he dies, it won't be your fault." Dorian said nothing as his gaze slowly trailed back to the elf.

Oh, he knew that. But logic failed when gloom settled in.

'You're an idiot,' light green eyes popped open to stare at the two identical figures staring down at him. They both had rounded, almond shaped crimson eyes, pale skin, rounded face, slight chub'd cheeks, and silver hair. The one to his right's silver mop of shaggy hair spilled over their shoulders while the one on the left's straight silver hair barely brushed past their chin. The one on the right was smiling while the one of the left was smirking.

'Huh?' Green Eyes asked. The twins shared a look before the one with shaggy hair chuckled.

'You fell asleep!'

'Come on!' the twins stood up straight. 'Saeya says that Keeper Istimaethoriel is looking for you!' the one on the left had pointed to his shaggy haired twin. Saeya grinned widely.

'Ya! Keeper also says that me and Lymal could tell ya! I think it's about your mamae!' Saeya smiled.

'So hurry and get up, Noah!' Lymal grumbled. 'I wanna know what she wants to say too! So when you come back you have to make sure to tell us everything she tells you, 'kay?' Noah frowned in confusion.

'What? Saeya? L-Lymal?' Noah looked between the two before blinking and rubbing his eyes. 'Where is Sara? Wa-wait, why do you look so young?'

Both Saeya and Lymal exchanged looks before staring at Noah with a frown. 'What are you talking about?' Lymal asked.

'Who is Sara?' Saeya asked.

'Saraphim…My sister…what do you mean who is she?' Noah stood abruptly, staring down at the shorter elves. 'And what the hell do you mean the Keeper wants me? She's dead!' The two looked between each other before looking back at Noah with another frown. Saeya suddenly smiled.

'Come on, Noah!' Saeya and Lymal both turned and ran off through the trees. Noah took a step after them.

'Wait!'

'Noah, don't be a slowpoke!' Their voices were echoing all around him. The scenery around him began to bleed away into darkness. Noah spun around quickly as he slowly watched everything melt away.

'Lymal! Saeya!' he shouted.

'Don't be a slowpoke, Noah!'

'Where did Noah go?'

'Did you hear that?'

'It sounds like shems! We better get going-"

'Where is Noah?'

'Noah?!'

'Da'Saeya! Val'Aishlym!'

The shouts became muddled together. Noah slowly sank to his knees, clutching his head tightly. The voices grew louder, pounding against every corner of his mind. They grew louder and louder until suddenly it all stopped. Noah slowly opened his clenched eyes. He brought his head up and saw a bright light shining from afar.

'Noah? Noah? Can you hear me Noah?' it was Sara's voice.

'Sa...ra…' A figure stepped in front of the light. It was female – it was Sara! What was she doing here – wherever here was? Was he dead? Was he dreaming? Why did he feel both pained and numb?

'Noah….if you can hear me…I'm…' the figure slowly faded away. Noah reached his hand out towards the light.

'Sa…Sara! Sa…ra!' Darkness crept at the edge of Noah's vision as he collapsed forward.

"…not sure…"

"…die?"

"…elf….wounded….death…."

He drifted in and out of consciousness. Why did he hear voices? Was he dead?

Scorching, white hot pain struck through his mind like wild, untamable storm magic. Pain…there was pain everywhere. Why was he in pain? Wasn't he dead? He had failed Saeya and Sara. He'd died…he couldn't protect them any longer…he couldn't…

He let a pained breath leave him.

"I think he's awake." The voice was deep and gruff. It cut through the heavy fog that slowly floated around his cotton-filled mind.

"Alright. Best you leave and allow me to tend to him. He will most likely be half coherent and I doubt he would be comfortable in either of your company – no offense." Two different pitches of laughter followed.

"None taken." "Understandable."

Where was he….? The last thing he remembered…was being stabbed.

Was he in a dungeon?

No…he wouldn't be on a comfortable flat surface. Was he being kept prisoner in a bedroom, perhaps? The defender….he had said something about a morale booster…everything after that was blank. He pried open his eyes slowly with a pained moan.

"Da'len, where do you ache the most?" it was spoken in elvhen. Noah blinked to allow his vision to clear – it didn't help. Colors and shapes mingled and muddled together in his vision, making him somewhat sick. When he managed a clear enough vision, he got a look at the elven woman kneeling at his side. Her skin tanned, hair pulled up into a bun, and dark eyes – he couldn't exactly tell what color they were. There was an odd coloring around her left eye in some sort of pattern – it was a vallaslin that he guessed depicted the elven pantheon Sylaise.

"…Head…" he responded back in kind. Why did his head hurt worse than his stomach…didn't he get stabbed in the stomach? "…Where…?" It was hard enough to piece together a sentence verbally, now it was getting harder to string together a coherent thought.

"Shh…Do not worry, you are safe now. Just rest yourself." Why was it suddenly dark? Had he closed his eyes? He couldn't feel his body anymore. A sudden and fearsome panic shot through his muddled mind. He couldn't move, couldn't feel anything, couldn't see…was he dying again? "Do not fear…you are safe, just rest…." He only understood half of what she said, the other half lost to his panic muddled mind.

Then everything was blank.

"There is something odd about him," Dorian and Bull looked up as the elf came out of the hut with the injured elf. They'd managed to make it to their temporary base camp without any trouble. They did; however, come to find that majority of those who were in the camp were gone. The emptiness was now mostly taken up by refugee elves. "I assume you felt it?" She was looking at Dorian.

"Yes…There is a strange sort of aura surrounding him…" Dorian frowned, crossing his arms.

"It is the veil." She stepped fully out of the hut and motioned for them to follow her. "I am not a rift mage, but even I can feel how the veil twists itself around him. I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing…" She frowned, staring at Dorian. "I mean…it does not feel like he is weakening it nor making it stronger. It just looks like he has a slight influence over it. Kind of like how the stories were told about the inquisitor having influence over the rifts." A pained expression fleeted over Dorian's feature. The elven woman noticed it and apologized. "I am deeply sorry for your lost, ma lethalan. It was a lost also felt over elven kind. You are not alone in your pain, remember that and your pain will not fester." She let out a little sigh.

"You said he was stabbed, correct?" She turned to regard both Bull and Dorian. They nodded. "He said most of his pain is concentrated in his head…" she frowned. "It is odd, though, I guess he has you to thank for the lack of pain in his abdomen." She was looking at Dorian again.

"Maybe he's a mage? A rift mage, I mean." Bull suggested, causing the two mages to look at him. "When we discovered him, there were ice shards everywhere. I assumed since the ice was protruding from the human soldiers, it was him who did it."

"Well," the elven woman frowned in thought.

"That could be a possibility…" Dorian mumbled. "Though, the only rift mage I've ever been so close to was Solas…and he didn't quite have an aura like the elf's," Dorian looked from Bull to the elven woman. "Did you happen to catch his name?"

"No." She frowned. "Though…when I first began to heal him, he kept whispering something about Lymal, Sara and Saeya."

"Lymal?" Both Dorian and Bull asked in alarm.

"Why? This name holds significance?" She was looking at them with interest.

"Lymal….it was what Val'Aishlym said his clan nicknamed him," Dorian looked up at Bull. "He must be a part of Val'Aishlym's clan."

"Lavellan?" The elven woman frowned. "I had heard the Lavellan clan was lost to a band of shemlens…could he be one of the few that was rumored to have survived? I must admit, I only believed them to be rumors but if what you imply is true…" She turned to look at the hut. "There are others we should look out for…this Sara and Saeya…maybe they are still out there somewhere?"

"How would we even know if they are a part of the Lavellan clan?" Dorian asked with a frown. The elven woman turned to look at him.

"The same way you would tell what family a human comes from – you ask them," She raised an eyebrow.

"You also said Saeya…That sounds like the name of the elf that helped me out," Bull frowned. "Maybe he was also with that elf and that's where all the cut up soldiers came from. I mean – when I met him, he kind of reminded me of Cole but with throwing knives." Dorian turned his attention from Bull to the elven woman.

"What clan are you from?" he asked. She smiled mysteriously.

"I am Briavera of the Sabrae clan." With that, she walked back towards the hut. She entered with the parting words: "I will be here if you need me."

Dorian and Bull exchanged looks. "What was all that about?" Bull asked. Dorian shrugged, making his way towards the center of their camp where a tent was set up.

"We might as well get to letting Cassandra know we're alive – somewhat…" He was looking over Bull's somewhat starved looking body.

"Be happy I don't eat humans." Was the only thing Bull said as they made their way towards the camp.