The conversation with Alexius wasn't going well. He'd shot down any attempts at negotiation Velthorn tried, but they needed to give their agents time to get into position. The elf wasn't sure how much time he could buy them, at this rate.
"It seems we are at an impasse, Herald," the magister said.
"So it seems," Velthorn replied.
"A pity. I had hoped we could work together. It seems that was not to be."
"I only have one more thing to offer," Velthorn said, "I know you're a magical researcher. Surely the Breach interests you. Collaborate with us to learn more. We can share any and all information on it with you. Perhaps even get you close to it, personally."
Alexius leaned forward in his seat, looking more invested than he had the entire meeting. His son stood uncomfortably at his side, looking around the room nervously.
"That is an interesting offer. I have been wanting to see the Breach for myself. But how did you know I research magic?"
Velthorn gave him a confident smile. "You didn't think we would walk into these negotiations blindly, did you?"
"Indeed not," the magister replied.
Suddenly, Felix addressed his father. "My Lord. Father. They know everything."
"What do you mean?" Alexius asked, looking toward the younger man.
"I told them everything. About the Venatori and the time Rifts." He looked so incredibly guilty.
Alexius stood, facing his son. "What have you done?"
From behind Velthorn and Cassandra, there came the twang of bowstrings and the guards fell, arrows in their chests. As they lay dying, Inquisition scouts, Leliana's people, took their places.
"He's done the right thing," Dorian said, stepping out from behind a pillar. "Isn't this sort of extremism exactly what we didn't want?"
The magister turned on the group, shouting, "You know nothing of what you speak!"
"They're concerned for you, Alexius," Velthorn said, taking a step forward. "Your son is worried for you. That you've gotten involved in something terrible."
"Please listen to them, father," Felix said.
Alexius looked at his son. The sickness was clear in his face. The Blight would kill him. It would be an awful death. His son deserved better.
"No. I will take care of this. The Elder One will save you and no one is going to get in my way!" the magister shouted. He thrust a necklace in the air.
At the same moment the Rift opened, Dorian shouted, "No!" and attempted to throw Velthorn out of the way, but it was too late. Both of them fell through and into the swirling lights.
"Blood of the Elder One! Where did they come from?" a voice exclaimed.
When the bright spots died from his vision, Velthorn realized he was standing in cold, knee-height water. All around him were stone walls and iron-barred cells ran the length of the room. Dorian had appeared next to him and also seemed to be having trouble getting his bearings.
The loud screech of a gate turned his attention to the two men running into the flooded room. He raised his staff and wove a shield around himself and Dorian.
"Look out!" he called to the human, because the guards had drawn their swords.
Dorian had regained his senses and now also raised his staff. He twirled it around and hit both across the face with the blunted end. Stunned, they stumbled back and Dorian moved away from them a ways.
With some space between them, Dorian took aim and hurled a massive fireball at them both.
The men tried to move, but were instantly cooked in their armor. They dropped like potato sacks into the murky water.
"Well, so far this has been fun," Dorian said with a sigh.
"Nothing is ever dull around me," Velthorn lamented.
"You know, I was getting that impression."
Velthorn sighed now. "So, where are we?"
Both of them looked around, but Dorian said, "I'd say we were still in the castle, but look in the corner. That's red lyrium, isn't it?"
"Yes. And I don't remember coming across any, especially in this amount, anywhere near Redcliffe."
"Hmm," Dorian thought, "Perhaps if…I mean we could be…I suppose it isn't only a matter of where, but of when."
Velthorn looked at him, eyebrows arched high. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"It seems we've been temporally displaced." Dorian seemed oddly pleased despite the direness of the situation. Velthorn felt a thrill of panic in his gut.
"Can we get back?" Velthorn asked.
"I…might be able to reverse the spell, given I have the necklace Alexius used. It's the focus. I might be able to open a Rift to take us to another focus in time. Hopefully ours."
"Something is better than nothing. For now, we should probably get out of this water."
The lower dungeon rooms seemed all the same; full of broken crates, water, and rodents. They rose up a level and left the water behind. This was yet another level of dungeon cells and closed doors. Red lyrium grew from the cracks in the mortar and split the stones apart, allowing dirt to fall through.
"What could have caused this?" Dorian asked.
Velthorn shook his head. "I don't know. I suppose, if we've been transported through time, we could be in a future where the Elder One gained power. There was red lyrium at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, so it can't be a coincidence that it's here. Whatever this lyrium is, everything that's happening seems to have connections to it.
"Varric has been trying to find out what it is. He's asked around Orzammar and his surface connections, but no one's seen it before.
"Well, it gives me a headache," Dorian said, "When we get back, we should definitely do something about it."
"Agreed."
Faint footsteps made them pause for a moment, and Velthorn looked around for somewhere to hide. It wouldn't do to have the entire castle called down upon them.
One of the doors was unlocked and they slipped inside to avoid detection. It was pitch black in the room, but Velthorn kept the door cracked to see who was coming by. If they could find the keys to this place, it might make it easier to search or to escape.
A man came by, dressed in red and silver armor. He didn't make any sound and had a hard expression in his face. He came to a stop in front of a door on the opposite wall and used one of the keys on his key ring to unlock it.
That room was well lit, and as the man entered, it sounded like he greeted someone. He closed the door behind him.
"I think there's someone in that room," Velthorn said, rising from his squatting position.
"And?" Dorian asked.
Velthorn looked at him as he opened the door. "And I think we should see what's going on. What if someone needs our help?"
"Yes, but if we get into a fight and call all the guards to us, then we'll be the ones needing help."
There was a peculiar noise from behind the door, like metal on metal. Velthorn didn't hesitate to slowly open it, just to see what was going on, and was appalled at what he saw.
Slumped against a roughly 'Y' shaped slab of stone was a familiar grey-skinned elf. At the tips of the 'Y', his hands had steel spikes driven through them and into the stone, as well as chains wrapped around the wrists. Blood oozed out from the wounds and down his bare arms, where they met the metal collar around his neck. It dug painfully into his throat, leaving a dark line, as a chain attached to the back of the collar was the only thing holding his head up. His eyes were closed.
The only clothing left on him was a pair of trousers, now frayed and stained. A collection of scars indicated that the dark elf had seen some nasty injuries, but none of the scars were resent, though there was blood abound. In vials and bowls. On the floor. On various instruments. On trays with unidentifiable tissues.
In fact, the only clean surface in the room was the one dotted with papers. Diagrams and scribbled notes covered the parchment in every available space.
The man they'd seen before was mixing some of that blood in with a yellowish liquid, obviously doing some type of experiment with it.
Horrified, and having had his suspicions confirmed, Velthorn rushed the man and hit him as hard as he could over the head with his staff.
The glass container he'd been holding dropped onto the table and spilled, while the man himself fell to the floor.
Dorian was right on Velthorn's heels.
"What are they doing in here? This is…not normal," Dorian gasped.
"Neither is he. Help me get him down," Velthorn said, grabbing the keys off the man's belt.
He may not have been normal, but Volyn didn't deserve this. No one did.
It took him a few tries, but he eventually found the proper key which undid the locks holding the dark elf in place.
Volyn would have fallen to the floor had Dorian not caught him.
"So, what is he exactly?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Velthorn answered, "He came from the Breach."
"Oh, that's good. 'I don't know what it is, but let's take it with us, shall we?'" Dorian mocked.
A low growl stopped the conversation short. The body against Dorian shuddered and Volyn lifted his head. His expression was wild. His fangs were bared.
"Are those—?"
Dorian's question was cut off by the door swinging open. A second researcher was coming in, but stopped in the doorway at the sight of the intruders.
He would have called for help too, except…
Well.
There was an irate and starving vampire looking for the object of his agony.
And as the vampire went after him, scientist and torturer!, there was only the hunger, and the hunger on its own was savage and uncaring.
Velthorn and Dorian watched in horror as the vampire viciously tore into the man's throat, silencing any words he might have spoken. There was a low growl audible between desperate swallows, but otherwise the dark elf was completely focused on his task.
The man struggled and gurgled, trying to breathe, but the vampire wasn't having it. He broke the struggling arm, crushing it in his hand as if it were no more than a dry stick. The other he pinned to the ground, nearly crushing it too in a carelessly tight grip.
By the time the hunger waned, the man was dead and Volyn began to return to himself just as the blood hit his system. It made him dizzy and his strength gave out. He lay atop the corpse, trying to regain his senses, but thinking was hard and he felt helpless as a baby rat.
The mages were looking at each other, unsure of what they'd just seen.
"Did you know he did that?" Dorian asked.
"No," Velthorn answered.
"You think he'll do that throat-tearing thing to us?"
"I have no idea."
"No," Volyn wheezed out.
With no small measure of caution, Velthorn knelt by the vampire, who was attempting to raise himself.
"Are you all right?"
Volyn's fingers gripped the stones and his arms shook. He felt weak. He hadn't felt this weak since Harkon had taken him into Molag Bal's shrine room those many months ago, telling him that he would either accept his 'gift' or die. Accepting the gift hadn't been preferable in those next few hours.
"No," the dark elf said again, "but I will be."
Velthorn offered him a hand and a steady glowing gaze stared at those hands with confusion and suspicion.
"You see me do this and your first reaction is to offer aid? You should have learned from the Seeker," the vampire weakly laughed.
"I can and will defend myself. But I won't turn away from someone in pain." That gloved hand was still extended.
Volyn took it. "You and I have very different ways of dealing with suffering."
"Now," Dorian interrupted, "if you don't mind, could you please explain just what's going on? What in the Void are you?"
"We're called vampires," Volyn explained, wiping his mouth vainly and cringing at the mess. He'd turned into one of those slavering creatures that crawled about in caves. "We survive on a diet of blood. No, we are not a product of blood mages, not the kind you know, but yes I use blood magic.
"If you'll allow, I do have one question of my own," Volyn said, "How are you here?"
Velthorn was about to explain, but Dorian has his own piece to say. "Oh no. You can't change the subject now."
"We don't have time for this," Velthorn insisted.
Dorian looked at the elf and that insistent face of his. "Ugh. Very well. But we will be going over this when we get back."
"Get back?" Volyn prompted, retrieving some of the researcher's spare clothes, things kept for after the experimenting.
"We were sent forward in time. We just aren't sure of how long yet," Velthorn told him.
Volyn gave a humorless laugh. "I believe it's been about a year since your supposed death."
"A year? We missed an entire year?" Dorian exclaimed.
The dark elf's mouth turned down in a grimace. "It was…quite a year. I'll tell you about it as we go along. There may be others of the Inquisition here. We should look around for them." He looked at the unconscious man by the table. "I'll take care of him."
As they progressed through the halls, Volyn explained about the time-distorting Rifts appearing more and more frequently. Without anyone to close the Rifts, they just kept spreading father and farther from the Breach, causing mass chaos. Then there was the fall of Orlais after Empress Celene was assassinated and the army of demons that swept through to further disorganize and destroy remaining opposition.
"We couldn't do anything to help. Solas disappeared one night, leaving without telling anyone. Even Leliana's people couldn't find him. Cassandra…died fighting. Varric left soon after. Things went out of control very quickly after you were gone," Volyn finished.
Velthorn was speechless. He kept staring forward because he thought if he didn't, he might lose track of where he was going. He felt a little light-headed.
"I can't be…that important. I'm not—I'm just not what people want me to be."
"Take it from someone who knows; heroes aren't always ready to be heroes when they are needed," Volyn told him.
"Who are you?" Dorian asked, though it was mostly rhetorical.
"That is a question better asked of me a year ago," Volyn said.
"You wouldn't answer a year ago," Velthorn pointed out.
"Then make me listen," Volyn insisted, his voice absent of its usual carefree nature, "This future, if it can be avoided, cannot come to pass. The Elder One has won here and that cannot happen. Not for the sake of your world and all its people." He stopped, subtly sniffing the air. "We have company coming."
On cue, Velthorn could suddenly hear the loud sound of boots on stone rapidly approaching. Moments later, so could Dorian. Both mages readied their staves.
But Volyn raised a hand to them. "No. These are mine."
A cloud of red appeared around one of Volyn's hands, like a blood mist. A very appropriate visual for the spell's purpose.
As the armored men and women rounded the corner, half a dozen of them, Volyn drew on his magicka, something he hadn't been able to do in those restraints. Their studies on him had unfortunately bore fruit.
But these people were unprepared for what they'd found. As soon as they came into view, Volyn let the spell loose and it began to pull in their very life-force.
Caught off guard, most of them fell to their knees instantly, feeling the fuzziness and nausea rising. Blood surfaced on their skin from a thousand tiny, stinging wounds, beading and flying toward the swirling mist in the dark elf's hand.
The mage of the group tried to use a counter spell, but found himself too weak to do so.
Within ten seconds, none of them could move. Within half a minute, they were nothing more than bloodless husks.
"Well that was blood magic if I've ever seen it," Dorian said.
"Yes." The vampire was looking much better now. And the mages weren't sure if that was comforting or not. It was as though the blood he'd pulled in had been directly absorbed by his body.
"Then are you a mage?" Velthorn asked as they continued. He took one last look at the bodies as they stepped around them.
"Where I come from, most can use magic innately, but choose not to develop it. There is no danger of demons there and the magic comes not from the Fade, but from within. We call it magicka."
That was a gross over-simplification, but it would have to do. Volyn didn't have the energy or the patience to explain about the multiverse that was his own world.
"Where do you come from?" Dorian questioned.
Volyn didn't answer, and the mages looked at each other in concern once again.
Something caught Dorian's eye as they passed the pile of corpses.
"Hold on. What is that?"
Something red glinted on the belt of the dead mage. Dorian went to pick it up, but Velthorn grabbed his wrist. Immediately after, the elf withdrew his hand, embarrassed that he'd just had the audacity to grab a near perfect stranger.
"Don't touch it. Red lyrium," the elf said.
"Hmm."
Instead of touching it with his bare hands, Dorian used a bit of torn cloth from the dead man's robe to pick it up.
"It's carved," Dorian observed, "But I don't know what these runes are."
Velthorn took a closer look. "They look like the runes on the shards we've been finding with the Ocularum."
"The what?" Dorian asked.
Velthorn shook his head. "I'll explain later. But I think this might be useful. We should keep it with us, just don't let it touch your skin."
"Duly noted," the human said, tucking the crystal away in a bag on his belt. "So, what were they doing to you anyway?"
Volyn looked at him steadily. "They tried to break my mind using blood magic; make me subservient to their cause. But they have no idea of the things I've been through. My mind is my own."
Dorian went unusually quiet after that, a look of hard contemplation on his face.
He remained quiet as they went further into the castle and discovered that much of it was wrecked. What wasn't covered in filth, decaying bodies, and rotting blood, had been torn apart by red lyrium jutting from every angle. It grew out of the very walls like some infection.
Velthorn's hand sparked to life along the way, the cracks along his fingers glowing brightly through the glove.
"I'm guessing that means a Rift is nearby," Dorian said.
"How very astute of you," Volyn said, but he was only half paying attention to what was being said behind him.
They came through a door and indeed there was a Rift here. It was dormant, but at Velthorn's behest, it opened. They made quick work of the demons and closed the Rift before looking about the room. There were two exits. Both led to hallways.
"Split up," Volyn said, "It's the fastest way. If Alexius is in the castle at the moment, he'll be up top. I used to hear them speak about it. That he was losing his mind. Becoming paranoid. Had a strange door installed to keep people out of the throne room for his stays."
"I guess we're off to the throne room," Velthorn said.
"You two go that way. I'll see where this leads," Volyn directed.
"Why?" Dorian asked, curious as to why the vampire would want to separate. Ulterior motive, perhaps?
"I'll be able to find you. Just go," Volyn said, then he was gone.
"He likes his air-of-mystery act quite a lot, doesn't he?" Dorian remarked.
The elf nodded. "Everything about him is a mystery. Like I said, he came out of the Breach and hasn't told us anything of himself further than his name. Until now. But…that doesn't really matter right now. We need to focus on getting us back in time so none of this ever happens."
"Agreed. I mean, who in the world did their decorating here? It's atrocious. I think I liked the dog motifs better."
Velthorn couldn't help but laugh. This certainly wasn't the time for thinking about such things, but had Dorian not been present with his constant sarcasm and natural charisma, the elf likely would have found himself completely out of sorts about this entire thing.
Magical anomalies weren't over his head, he'd spent many afternoons talking with Solas about the way the Breach could be affecting magic, but actually and physically traveling through time? It was a bit much, even for the Herald of Andraste (who didn't actually remember walking out of the Fade).
The two paths wrapped around and they met up with Volyn again on the other side. Along the way, in one of the rooms, they found a sleeping mage. She heard them enter the room, however, and immediately hurled a flurry of ice at them. Luckily, they avoided the attack and killed her, then found one of the strange shards of red lyrium amongst her things.
"I found one as well," Volyn informed them, giving the shard to Dorian. The mage tucked them with the others.
"That's three so far. I wonder what they're for," Dorian mused aloud.
"They must be important, or we wouldn't be finding so many of them," Velthorn reasoned.
"Precisely. So let's get a move on. We have to find Alexius."
The castle took several more twists and turns, sporting more Rifts, red lyrium, and cultists. The group easily dispatched everything in their way and moved on until they reached a curious stone door.
"I've never seen anything like that before," Dorian admitted.
"Neither have I," Velthorn said. "But look at these markings in these slots. Those lyrium pieces we picked up should fit here."
"And we just so happened to have all five. Good job us," Dorian added.
He slid the lyrium shards into their proper slots, each one clicking into place. When the final one was in, they lit up bright red and so did the crest in the center of the door. It swung open with a grinding sound.
With a deep breath, Velthorn entered first.
Alexius was indeed in this room, pacing back and forth before a table set in the center of the room. Nothing had changed much over the last year, except for the large lyrium crystals growing from the walls, glowing an angry red in the semi-dark.
As the door opened, the magister looked up and stood a shaky step back, recognizing who was entering.
"I knew you'd be back," he said as the two approached.
"We need to end this," Velthorn told him. "Look at what you've done. Look at everything that's happened!"
"Look at what you've done to your own son," came Volyn's voice from behind.
The vampire held what remained of Felix with one hand. The young man, once looking sickly, but normal, was now pale and nothing more than a husk of his former self. His head lolled to the side and he stared blankly forward, his once brown eyes now glazed.
"That's Felix?" Dorian said with alarm. His expression changed to a disturbed frown. "What have you done?! Alexius…Maker, what have you become?"
"I saved him!" the magister shouted. He whirled around on Volyn. "Please, let him go! Leave him alone!"
"I'll let him go when you reverse what you've done," Volyn said darkly.
"Fine, fine! Please, just don't hurt him," the magister cried.
With clumsy, fumbling fingers, he removed the necklace he wore. There was a square pendant on the end.
"Is that the same one we made?" Dorian asked.
"Yes," Alexius said.
A Rift exploded open right between Alexius and Volyn, but instead of a Rift under Alexius's command, this was something else.
An enormous Pride demon formed from the Rift, standing as tall as the pillars next to it. Volyn growled at it, sounding more animal than humanoid, and the demon chuckled. Its eyes were set on Alexius.
"No! I'll correct my mistake! I swear!" the magister shouted.
"Too late, little mage," the demon said, voice deep.
Alexius tried to defend himself, firing a small barrage of fireballs at the demon, but it swatted them away and crushed him under one of his hands. Bones crunched and blood gushed from between the creature's fingers.
Volyn growled again, hunger roused.
"We have to get to that pendant," Velthorn said.
Dorian was silent, but nodded.
The demon turned their way and began to walk toward them. From behind, Volyn launched himself at the creature, landing on its back and hanging on by the spikes there. The demon growled and its skin lit up with electricity.
As Volyn hit the ground, snarling and partially paralyzed, the two mages went to work. Dorian hit the beast with a face full of fire, distracting it as Velthorn made a run for the Rift it had come through.
The creature saw this, however, and threw a ball of lighting in his path. So focused on his task, he was hit in the side and blasted to the ground. With a scream, he fell to the ground, all his muscles spasming.
"Velthorn!" Dorian shouted, trying to find an opportunity to help the downed elf. But now the demon was completely focused on him.
Volyn got to his feet, legs still shaking. He was tired and hungry and angry. Snarling, he felt his body changing, shifting, becoming something monstrous. It was nothing like becoming a werewolf. This change was more like being remolded rather than being morphed.
Newly shaped, the Vampire Lord spread his wings and leaped into the air. He took hold of the demon's head and sank his claws into the chitinous skin.
The demon roared and shook, at the same time trying to remove him with its own clawed hands. But Volyn was stubborn and sank teeth into the top of the creature's head before letting go and taking to the air again.
He landed between Dorian and the demon, spreading his wings wide and shrieking at it. The demon roared back and hurled electricity at him.
While the demon was busy, Dorian saw his opportunity. He ran to Velthorn, who was still on the ground. The man put a hand on the elf's back, helping him sit up.
"Are you all right?" Dorian asked.
Though his body was still trembling, Velthorn felt better than he thought he would. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's get to the Rift."
"By the way," Dorian said as they made a run for the Rift, "Your friend has turned into some kind of monster back there."
"What?" Velthorn glanced over at the fighting creatures and glimpsed what used to be the dark elf, "That's Volyn?"
"I'm assuming you didn't know he did that either," Dorian said.
"No. And we're definitely going to have a talk. Provided we get back," the elf said, raising his hand toward the Rift.
The demon looked back, feeling that something was wrong with the Rift. A line of green connected it to the elf. It went to shoot them with lightning, but the vampire obscured its vision.
"When we get back," Dorian corrected, "It's best to think positively in times like this, yes?"
Bellowing in rage, the demon flailed its arms, but the vampire was persistent. He swiped at the demon's face and scratched a row of eyes out. Reflexively, it swatted the vampire out of the air, but saw that it was too late. The Rift exploded into dormancy and the demon felt it like a physical blow. It dropped to one knee.
Simultaneously, the mages took aim and shot the creature with bolts of fire. They could smell its singed and burning flesh, but it still got to its feet again.
With a great roar of his own, Volyn launched himself from the ground and up at the demon's face, swiping at the thing's already wounded eyes with outstretched claws. He sank those claws into the empty eye sockets, plunging them deep as they could go. As the demon shook its head, desperate to remove the vampire, the mages fired bolts from their staves.
Volyn held on tightly, hooking the claws of his feet into the creature's chest and hanging on. With his other hand, he slashed his claws across the demon's neck, spilling black fluid everywhere.
"Volyn!" Velthorn shouted, "Move!"
Immediately, the vampire backed off, using the demon's chest as a launching point. He maneuvered himself in the air and came to land beside the mages.
Together, Velthorn and Dorian created a ring of fire around the demon. It blazed to life, putting a barrier between it and them. They didn't waste their time; they started sending bolts of magic at it again.
It growled deeply at them, glaring with its remaining eyes. The creature raised its arms, charging an electrical attack between its hands. Then it slammed those hands down on the ground, creating an electrified field around itself and just barely stopping before the three companions.
The demon hurled two more electrical spheres at them, making them end their assault and move out of the way. But they could tell the creature was slowing. Its oozing wounds were sapping its strength. Though its blood didn't flow like mortals' blood, the bleeding was still taking its toll.
"A few more good hits and this demon is good as dust," Dorian said, peeking out from behind the pillar.
"Good. I'm running out of energy over here," Velthorn replied.
"Really? I could do this all day!" the Tevinter boasted. Velthorn rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.
In truth, both men were becoming exhausted. They'd come across a few lyrium potions in the lower portions of the castle, but that didn't stop the ache in their muscles.
"All right, here's what we're going to do," Velthorn said, "Dorian and I will distract it with a barrage spell. Volyn, follow our spells and try to take it out. Keep aiming for its head and neck."
The vampire nodded, his tail whipping back and forth like an agitated cat. The form he was in now was enormous in comparison with his usual humanoid form. His body was broader and the wings on his back, even folded, were clearly very large.
"Are you with me?" the elf asked Dorian.
Dorian also nodded. "Of course. You haven't led us astray this far."
"Then let's go," Velthorn said.
The mages leapt from behind the pillar, dodging the energy balls that were hurtling through the air at them. Each grounded their staves on the stones and let loose bolts of magic. For Dorian, these bolts were made of fire, while Velthorn's were lightning. The bolts mingled in the air, twisting and turning before focusing on the demon.
The demon swatted at the bolts of magic as if it were swatting away flies, but then Volyn came crashing down on it. With renewed vigor and vicious strength, the vampire tore at the demon's face, taking off chunks of flesh and flinging both it and black blood everywhere.
Finally, the demon fell. Even as the vampire continued his assault, the demon crumpled and became black mist, which was absorbed into the Rift.
Not wasting a moment, Velthorn closed it.
"Well, that was an absolute joy," Dorian said.
Velthorn nodded tiredly. "Let's get that amulet and see if we can get home."
They approached the mangled body of the magister. Dorian made a strange noise in his throat and his expression seemed pained.
"We couldn't help him. But we can help the Alexius in our time," Velthorn said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. He hoped it was comforting and not overstepping bounds.
Dorian looked at him. "Yes, I suppose you're right. It's just…ah, never mind. Let's get back."
Velthorn didn't dwell on it. If he didn't want to talk about it, that was all right. There were still things about the Conclave he still didn't want to talk about. He'd lost not only a good friend, but his entire clan. They were still out there, sure, and they'd even exchanged a few letters, but his entire life was here now.
"Here's the necklace." Velthorn handed it to his human companion.
"All right. I'm going to need some time to work this out."
"How much time?" came Volyn's tired voice. He was back in his humanoid form.
"An hour? Maybe more? I need to work out a few things," Dorian answered.
Volyn looked up and around, as if something were crawling on the ceiling. "I don't think you have that much time."
Dorian was about to ask why when all three of them suddenly heard a horrible sound. Some sort of screeching, audible even though the thick stone walls of the castle.
"He's coming. You have to go now!" Volyn shouted. "I'll see what I can do about holding them off."
"Wai—" Velthorn tried to say.
"Go! For all our sakes go!" the vampire insisted, then he was running out the door they came through. It closed behind him.
Velthorn turned to Dorian. "How quickly do you think you can do this?"
"Give me five minutes. Maker, I hope this works. We never could get it to work back in Minrathous. I wonder what's changed…"
"Well, there's the Breach, for one thing," Velthorn said.
Dorian blinked. "Oh! Of course! Why didn't I realize…"
He was lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to the present. His grey-brown eyes traveled down to the necklace in his hand, still wet with Alexius's blood. Blood which was now all over his fingers. Dorian sighed, then closed his eyes.
At first, Dorian only managed to conjure a few sparks. Within a few minutes, however, the spark was becoming a full-blown Rift. But as the minutes ticked by, the noises from outside became more worrisome.
A thunderous roar and crashing sound had both men snapping their heads around toward the strange door. Immediately following, the stone wall began to crumble under the weight of something enormous. One huge, clawed foot fell through the wall, then the entire thing collapsed.
The mages weren't entirely sure what they were seeing at first. It was massive, taking up the entire room, and both realized it was a dragon at the same time. When it opened its maw, it was nothing but arm length teeth.
"Come on!" Dorian shouted, grabbing Velthorn by the arm and tugging him into the Rift that had finally opened.
Velthorn glanced behind him one more time, only to see Volyn bearing the full brunt of the dragon's powerful breath attack. He was gone in one red blast.