Chapter 12
From Below
Having drinks at the tavern, Lavellan enjoys the company of a few of her closest friends. Bull is already becoming garrulous after who knows how many drinks, raised in praise. He has inappropriately gone on about killing a "sex demon" for the better part of the hour now. Sera is trying to push the images out of her head, having no interest in viewing tits and demons in the same picture. Blackwall has come in, after months of leading some of the Inquisition forces to rid the lands of those remaining focused to Corypheus' cause. His appearance, a welcomed treat. Sera turns to listen to him boast with stories of the mages he's been taking down, his joy in defending this rebellions cause, shines in these moments. Dorian is looking more relaxed, an opposite reaction expected after what occurred with his father. The pride has switched sides it seems, proving the heir to have great influence. Lavellan cannot help but notice the ease this creates in the mage, as his eyes sparkle and his smile warms any who look at him. Varric is just happy he is out from under the ground and that is enough for him to raise his stein. The group grows even louder as Krem and the Chargers walk in. Glad to be back in a place they now see as home. Bull loudly yells in their direction, "Horns UP!" As he knocks into a chair or two to meet them. Praises go even higher now. The Tavern now taken over by the growing party as the minstrel sings and the barkeeper keeps the drinks pouring. Laughter overshadows as she plays. The group gathers more and more members, as everyone is ending their day and wanting to join the sounds stirring from the tavern.
Lavellan excuses herself, knowing she has much to plan in the coming days and the drinks are already turning her sideways. She looks up to Cole who is watching the group celebrating below and gives him a beaming smile and sends a wave. A gesture that means much to the spirit. A change in the emotion, happy she remembers. Muin stands by him, holding a drink of her own, showing that she is not, all spirit, as she laughs at Krem buried under Bulls arm. She stops a moment to wave back at Lavellan's smile, then nudges Cole to look at Sera, who has just pulled out a hat she recently acquired from a nobles house.
Moments like these will never be conveyed in history. Maybe they should be, this freedom should have a voice – the elf thinks as she walks out into the cold night air.
The morning came faster than expected. Trying to recover from the beast that sits on her head. A little elfroot in her tea. She needs to regain focus. The desire demon stirred more in her than she knew to prepare for. Focusing on will and guarding the parts of yourself it tries to expose, the parts you don't want anyone to see, takes a massive amount of effort. Battles are never just about blade and blood. Every fight is a battle of will and spirit as well. A clear thought emerges. Above and below, she has heard that many times. References that she pushed to the rear of her mind until now. Going beyond the obvious, she never thought of how many points those words touched. Images connecting in her mind now. Nothing can exist above if not below, she cannot exist below without above, nothing is fixed unless they or more accurately she, has both. She has found the answer, now to face the question and make a choice. Undoubtedly a choice to shape everything again, once more.
"Dagna has cleared the vein holding the vase, we have what we need. There may have been more reason for these mages to enter the fade." Leliana confides the discovery. "The red lyrium, carried there after its corruption here; planted like a seed. An assault on the place all magic comes from, meant to destroy it all. Luckily, it moves slowly there. This could well be the reason the gods had been locked away. We find the seed these roots grow from, we kill it. Whatever that seed is, it seems it is living in someone or something alive. This may take more than we have."
"You mean what we have here." Lavellan discloses her piece in the play.
"Yes, there is still a door we have yet to knock on. One that will have to answer." Morrigan places her piece down as well.
"I suppose you refer to going into the fade." Cullen questioning what has to happen.
"We have no other choice." Cassandra standing in on the meet.
"No, this is too big for us, we don't have access to everything and the search will take longer than we may have. We need to seek out those that can help give us more direction, through the fade." Lavellan confirms the next move.
"We will be sure to plan a soiree for your return." Josephine tries to lighten the mood. All of them knowing that dangers unknown, await.
They break to prepare for the next day to come.
Another old friend gone, turned from her purpose. A spirit of wisdom, such a terrible loss. Knowing what comes next a new pain to add to the old he still suffers. Her lips, breaking through the moment. Soft and inviting. Her heart, hopefully hardened to prepare for what is to come. A rebellion now firmly in place, how he tires of the fighting. A world that should have never been, his sorrow to bare. He became familiar with, in ways attached to what was there, or who was there. He knows the call that beckons. Opening that door, when she knocks, will be the moment it all comes to. Until that knock comes, he must wait devising the next play.
Morrigan, Muin, Cassandra, and Cole stand by waiting for Lavellan. Morrigan is sure the door they need, lay behind the dragon who guards the abandoned temple. It is their remaining lead, all of their research, has led to the desolate village of Solas in Tevinter. Such is how fate works. Connecting what now seems too obvious. Every contact, every ally waits, holding their hopes high wondering if their risks will pay off. From ancient elven clans, down to the shapers of stone, even to the reaches of Tevinter Magister's, all risking everything that they are; a fate she must answer for them all. What this will lead to is a weight she knowingly holds. The companions, advisers, and spirits she has to consult – all leading her to this moment. A trusting accord, a ferocious pack. Thousands of eyes glowing behind her. Ready and willing to serve her command. Their continued survival relies on her ability to gain the most powerful alliance of all. One that waits locked away. Will it open when she knocks?
Her nerves are steady ready to face what comes. Never knowing what the Fade will hold, she has to prepare mentally as much as physically. Remembering the burns the desire demon left, protecting what will be used against her or taken away she now knows that light can lead her, darkness does not have to be her guide.
Walking out of her quarters into the empty Halls of Skyhold, she meets her companions signaling the start of their journey. The desolate village that holds the last door she needs to walk through, marking an end to this hunt, calling to her. Everyone noticing a change in their Inquisitor. An intense presence, holds the moment. She is not friend or foe in this moment, she is their leader. Her eyes holding the fierce temperament of everything she holds. Morrigan nods in approval, a faint smile paints her face. Muin stands in honor, pleased to see the light within her kin. Cole stand with his blades ready to serve. Cassandra happy to have her blade back in her hand nods her head in pride. Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine stand ready to see their Inquisitor off. The spies gather, ready to lead the party to the wasted land. As all of Thedas is going on about their lives, having no clue that history's path is being laid. The secrets of this hunt, well-kept. The group begins their long journey to the Silent Plains.
The haze of these desert plains, reflects against the party's armor. The burning sun beating down. The village is just in the distance, barely seen behind the blowing sand. Knowing their passage waits behind a beast of great strength, they reserve everything they have, for the fight that awaits. The bodies still lay, now covered in sand, from their previous visit. No one has come to take new claim of the area, its desolation – a still reminder of what protects this ruin. Morrigan awaits her call, building up the will she needs as the team digs deep within their own wills. A few more steps and they are beyond the sandstone walls. The energy already changing as the party looks on the dragon, its massive black form curled up in front of the ruin it protects. Lavellan raises her arm, blade hushed, ready to give the signal. Morrigan waits behind the walls, listening for the growl of the dragon to signal her charge. Cassandra's hand firmly gripping her blade, as her knuckles turn white under her armor. Muin holds a blade in one hand and begins charging her magic in the other, finding her fighting stance. Cole disappears fading into his spirit form, pulling his blades from his back crossing down over his head.
With a drop of her arm they begin the fight, waking the sleeping black beast to a fight for its survival. Blades cut into the dragons legs, penetrating deep into its hardened skin. Muin throws a barrier as the dragon turns to face her. Helping to deflect the guardian's attacks, she casts her destructive light. Cassandra proving she is still a dragon hunter, fierce in ability, relentlessly slashes the beast causing it to spin and jump trying to avoid the painful annoyance. Cole fearlessly attacks the other leg, putting all of his force into his poisoned cuts. Lavellan meets his ability, in hopes to trip up the dragon, maiming its stand. The party, constant in their attacks awaits Morrigan's entrance to the fight. Conjuring magic and building her will, Morrigan calls on every power available to her, as her metamorphosis begins. Knowing their match will take to the skies, even the gods will take note of their arrival. One kick, steady into the air, her flight takes form. The dragon wounded, senses the challenge as it spreads its wings to meet the taunt, in the skies. Two mighty beasts tumbling throughout great height. Clawing at each other. Morrigan means to catch the beast and throw it to the ground, burying it in the untouched sands. The rest of the party runs outside the walls to meet the plan, ready to finish off what life might remain in the dragon. As if it written, she gains the advantage over the guardian. Its flight weakened from the fight below, Morrigan's stretched claws grab the beast pushing it toward the sands below. Landing it hard on the sands sending a cloud of dust into the air. She falls out of the dragon form gracefully, remembering the hit she took in the battle of Corypheus. The beast lay broken, still breathing. Not much more effort is needed to finish off what will it has left. As the party thrashes the beast with magic's and blades. The guardian finally gives up its fight, releasing its life. A mighty force blasts past them all, knocking them to the ground. Whatever spirit guided the beast, it has left as well. The party searches through the remains, gathering what the beast had collected over the years. Wounded, and out of potions they make their way back to the unknown temple.
The doors released from the magic that bound them, push open. The friends met with the old smooth stone of the temple. A dank, stale smell of mossy dust fills their senses, as a wide passage leads them toward a large room. There are no emblems, no mosaics, nothing to show that this is an elven ruin. Plain sandstone set in large blocks resembling the same design they saw at Solasan Temple in the Hidden Oasis. Echoes are all that meet their steps. In the center of the rear wall, lay another large set of doors with the images of two dragons, one head held up the other looking down. On the sides of the simple stone door, a cache of potions set discreetly in a wooden crate.
"There is magic behind this door, faint. Does the door stand unprotected?" Morrigan lets on what whispers she finds.
"What protected it lay in the sands outside Morrigan. But what defends it on the inside?" Muin releases her knowledge of where this door now leads.
"So this is our entrance, into the Fade?" Revealing her understanding, Cassandra catches on.
"It leads to place within the Fade, yes." Muin answers the preparation.
"It won't let me see!" Cole shouts out in frustration, his face showing a look of pain.
Muin steps over and places her hand on the spirit. "Your moment will come, Cole. Be at peace."
Morrigan pushes the stone doors open with the help of the others.
Placed in the middle, on a raised platform, with two smaller mirrors on each side, stands the eluvian. The stones on the floor leading to the eluvian are familiar to Lavellan as she once walking a similar path, in the Temple of Mythal.
"This must be the ritual to open the door." Morrigan says in a positive tone looking over at Lavellan, who is familiar with the magic. She does not even feel the need to take a moment, she walks around the room and each stone lights up golden, as she puts meaning into her steps. Wrapping all the way around and up the steps to land on the last piece, right in front of the door. The whole room glows golden for a moment; the magic then falls light.
The door glows, opening to the young elf, the magic now hers. Morrigan looks on as a mother would to a daughter. Knowing more than the elf does at this moment and proud of how far she has come; still in fear of what choice she will make, she holds faith. The rest of the group meets her up on the platform. Lavellan takes a deep pause. Releasing her breath, she steps through her door.