She lay there face down, unconscious. Her mercenary armor covered in mud and dust. A moan escaped her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered, tickling her cheeks. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself off the ground. It took some effort, but she soon made it to her feet.
A sharp and painful throb in her head made her flinch. When the pain was gone she looked around. There was nothing but a barren wasteland surrounded by darkness. Then a bright light stung her eyes and she turned her head away. Shielding her eyes, she turned to see what could cast a light as bright as the sun. In the distance on a tall hill, she saw a figure radiating light. To escape the darkness, the young woman instinctively made her way to the light. Through slime covered crags and sharp rocks, she forced her aching body to escape the darkness.
She was close, close enough to make out the features of the figure. It was a woman wearing a chantry head dress. Before the young woman could make out more, a blood curdling screech rung her ears. Behind her was a horde of spiders, giant and grotesque, crawling their way towards her. Panicked, she ran to the woman with great haste. In her haste, she slipped and fell to her knees. Quickly she started to crawl and claw her way to the top of the hill.
The glowing woman urgently offered her hand to help. The young woman desperately reached out, the spiders getting closer. Their high screeches stung her ears. As their hands grew closer, a green light spewed from the young woman's hand. Then everything went white and the air grew cold and silent.
A hole in the air, leading to someplace dark, floated in the middle of smoking ruins. It pulsed, gaining the attention of nearby soldiers. They approached cautiously with weapons drawn. Then the hole grew bright. An elven woman stumbled out of the hole then fell to her knees and a second later she fell to the ground. Behind her inside the hole, a woman stood and then disappeared when the hole closed. Soldiers surrounded the unconscious woman and debated what to do.
In a small village not far from the temple, two women stand in a small room. One with olive skin, short black hair, and sharp angular features. She wore heavy armor and her years of battle showed in her scarred face and stern gaze. The other woman was cloaked, a hood covering her bright red hair and casting a shadow over her soft face. Her bright green eyes were clouded in grief and confusion. They were Cassandra and Leliana, the right and left hands of the Divine. Cassandra busied herself with coordinating soldiers to combat the demons spewing from the breach and Leliana waited for word from her scouts.
The room's door creaked open as a scout marched in. She saluted to her superiors. "Spymaster, there's been a…" the scout paused for a second to find the right word to describe her report, "Development."
"Report!" Leliana ordered.
"We found a survivor in the temple. Thing is, she walked out of a rift, like the ones opening in the area. And she has a strange glowing mark on her hand."
"A survivor?" Leliana was shocked. "How could anyone survive such an explosion?"
"And what of this strange mark? What is it?" Cassandra cut in.
"We don't know. But we have noticed that it reacts to the breach," the scout answered.
"It could be what caused the explosion and the breach in the sky," Leliana stated. "Or could be the result of the explosion, just like the breach," Cassandra pointed out. "What of the survivor now?" Cassandra asked.
"She is in the holding cells being treated by Adan," the scout answered.
"Treated?" Leliana asked.
"When we found her, she was greatly injured and delirious with fever. We think the mark on her hand is killing her as well."
"Do whatever you must to keep her alive. We must have answers!" Cassandra demanded.
The scout saluted and then left while another scout entered. He saluted. "Spymaster, Lady Montilyet has arrived," he reported. "Good," Leliana said, "Return to your post." The scout saluted then left. "Someone you know?" Cassandra asked. "If we are to follow the Divine's last order, we must have political influence. She is well versed in politics as well as a good friend. We can trust her." With that, Leliana left the small room to greet their new ambassador.
The small room opened up into a large hall. Symbols of the Andrastian religion were everywhere you looked from the tapestries on the walls to smallest statues on the tables. The chantry of Haven acted as their base of operations in combating the breach as it was the closest thing to a stronghold they had near the temple. When one exited the Chantry as Leliana did, they would see wooden houses surrounding the area, the same ones that stood when Leliana first came here looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes with the Hero of Fereldon. Back then, it was an eery place, after the cultists and the high dragon were killed, pilgrims started settling and it became a cheery and peaceful village. Now it is chaotic, everyone scrambling to help or find help, and the breach in the sky blocked out the sun and casted its sickening green glow.
Josephine, the ambassador who has come to help, would have been pointed to the tavern. Not one of Josephine's favorite places to spend her time, but it was the only building not currently being used during the crisis. Leliana made her way there quickly, shuffling through the crowds of soldiers and pilgrims. When she opened the tavern door, the smell of light alcohol wafted into her nose. "It's a shame," she thought, "the townspeople were drinking in hope here not too long ago. Now that hope is gone." All it took was a quick scan of the room for Leliana to spot Josephine. She sat at a small table in the corner of the room wearing silk ruffles and blue shirt vest. While she was dressed quite fancily, it was merely a part of her job: she had to show that she was professional as well as not offend any dignitaries that she met.
Leliana silently strode across the room and grasped her friend's shoulder to get her attention. Josephine jumped in her chair and gasped. "Leliana," she sighed with relief, "You need a bell, I swear." Leliana giggled, "Sorry Jose, old habits die hard. Thank you for coming all the way here, and for even coming at all after…" Leliana stopped there. Josephine sighed, "I already heard. That kind of news travels fast and there's already news of other -what do you call them, rifts?- they're all over Thedas and demons are spewing out of those too." Josephine sighed, "Just when we thought this war might be over, everything gets worse. Thedas seems to have the worst luck."
"Lucky for us, we're strong. We'll get through this, Jose," Leliana assured. "Speaking of which, what is my part in getting us through this? I'm going to assume you and Cassandra will still follow the Divine's last orders," Josephine questioned. "We will, though the immediate situation must be dealt with first before that happens," Leliana explained.
As Leliana was talking, one of her agents entered the tavern and approached her with a feeling of urgency. "Spymaster, there is a situations that requires your attention," he reported. Leliana looked back to Josephine who smirked, " A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
"So it would seem," Leliana giggled, then got out of her chair and left her with, "Go to the chantry, I'll meet with you later." She led the way out of the tavern with her agent following next to her. He knew to speak without her saying so. "There's an elven mage at the entrance of the village. He surrendered his staff to Chantry forces and has cooperated with us. He says he wants to help, but he wishes to study the prisoner and one of the smaller rifts that has opened up nearby."
"An apostate?"
"Technically all mages are apostates now, Spymaster."
That was true. Still, it was odd that an apostate would willingly cooperate with the Chantry.
"Where is he now?"
"In the Chantry, my lady."
The elven apostate sat on a stool in small room in the Chantry. A simple wooden table with a burning candle in the middle stood in front of him. The only one keeping him company was the guard beside the door. The candle light lit up his features. He was an elven man who looked to be of forty years wearing tattered clothes with a pack indicating that he was a traveler. His thin brows furrowed in thought as he watched the candle burned. His thoughts were interrupted with the door opened and a cloaked human woman with bright red hair entered the room. She sat in the stool across from him. "I am Leliana, and I am told that you wish to help us."
"I do," he stated, "And I am called Solas."