The Edge of a Storm
The rain was incessant, a never ending torrential downpour that made Numina miserable. Every inch of her was soaked, sapping her of all warmth; and that wasn't even including the howling wind that whipped around, causing the rain to feel like sharp needles on the skin. Numina hated it here. She hadn't thought it possible, but Crestwood was worse than the Storm Coast. At least there she didn't have to worry about lightning.
"This is no natural storm," she called to her companions, fighting for her voice to stay above the sounds of the wind and rain.
"What gave that away?" Bull hollered, his dry sarcasm still managing to find purchase in his words. "The fact that this storm hasn't ended for several days, or the fact that the lightning seems to be aiming for us?"
As if it were waiting for a cue, lightning struck a few feet away from the camp, angry sparks showering down in a bolt of electricity. It lit a nearby patch of grass on fire that Inquisition soldiers sprang to put out since the rain seemed to have no effect on the small blaze.
The plan had been to rest at camp before proceeding on to meet Hawke and Varric in the old smuggler's cave where their associate was located. After nearly drowning on land with the storms, however, and in light of Scout Harding's detailed report on a rift that was underneath the lake, Numina had made a swift change of plans so that they could aid the people of Crestwood.
"We should leave the horses here, Inquisitor," Solas said, his voice several volumes louder than the quite, pondering tone he typically used so that his words could be heard above the wind. "The lightning and the corpses will make them unreliable due to their fear."
Inquisition soldiers took charge of their horses as the group departed on foot towards the village. The gravel trail, once used often by traders and merchants, was slowly becoming a river of water eroding it into more and more treacherous terrain as the rain continued. More than once, Numina would have to catch herself as her feet would slide on the slick mud into a ravine. It took all her concentration of moving forward to keep from snapping or spraining an ankle. After checking on her companions over her shoulder, Numina saw that they were faring no better than she was. Except for Cole. Somehow the spirit could find footing wherever he walked.
For the first time since they arrived, Cole finally spoke. "There are dead and living ahead!"
Numina's attention was brought back to the surrounding area. Ahead of them, several corpses bearing swords and bows were attacking a group of three ahead of them: two Grey Wardens in glittering armor and a cowering elf. Retrieving her bow and an arrow, Numina took aim. The corpses had not spotted them coming from behind them, focusing only on those directly in front. "Solas, can you keep a barrier around them?"
"It should not be difficult," he responded curtly.
One of the corpses was charging the nearest Warden, decaying arm wielding a rusty sword raised in attack. Numina released her arrow, her extraordinary accuracy allowing it to shoot its way to its mark, severing the arm of the corpse. Blue-green energy engulfed the defenders as the now armless corpse let out of screech in anger, pain, surprise, or whatever corpses were actually able to feel.
The rest of the walking dead, turned jarringly on rotting limbs towards Numina and her party, their attention successfully drawn. Bull let out a fierce battle cry before charging horns first towards the nearest corpse, while Cole miraculously appeared behind several of the archers, his daggers gleaming hungrily in the light of the torches illuminating the path. Numina released more of her arrows, aiming exclusively for the connection of limbs, taking out arms to make them easier adversaries for The Iron Bull and Cole; though she was focusing more closely on the archers, using her arrows to stop them from firing theirs, just as Solas was, the fire from his staff causing them to burst into flame when the dried up flesh caught fire.
As the last of the corpses fell, the barrier Solas had kept in place around the Grey Wardens and the elf dissipated, and the elf departed rather quickly, hastily issuing thanks as she ran to safety. One of the Wardens opened their mouth to speak, but were interrupted by a large explosion coming from the lake. A massive ripple of green stretched outwards from the waters, sending a plume of water upwards with it. The energy from the rift was strong, causing the Anchor to respond. Numina winced as the angry green mark ripped itself open angrily across her palm. Pain and numbness extended throughout her arm as she instinctively clutched it, keeling over slightly.
"You-you're the Herald- I mean, the Inquisitor," the younger looking Warden stammered. "That mark on you hand-"
But the other Warden, the one who was most likely in charge, stopped him from fawning or making a fool of himself, "We did not expect to see the Inquisition out here," he commented. "Though it is not unwanted. Perhaps you can do something to help the people of Crestwood."
"The corpses are no doubt being brought to life by the rift beneath the lake," Solas offered. "Seal the rift and that should prevent more of them."
"Good," the older Warden said, sheathing his sword. "The people of Crestwood have suffered enough." With that, he began to leave.
"Isn't there something that we can do?" the younger Warden said, stopping his partner.
"We have our orders. With no sign of him, we must return to Commander Clarel." The younger Warden hung his head slightly and did not argue anymore, instead turning to follow his partner.
As they passed, Numina couldn't help herself. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice." She turned to face the Wardens who had stopped at her words. "The war between the Inquisition and Corypheus may not be yours, but war with the blights is." They moved, this time to face her. "The people of Crestwood have suffered, as you said. They suffered from the Blight, catching the disease and later drowning when the darkspawn flooded the area. The Grey Wardens weren't able to help them then, but you can help them now." The angry glow from Numina's hand began to finally subside, taking the pain along with it. "I can't be in two places at once, defending the village while I seal the rift. Restore the people's faith in the Wardens by aiding them now instead of abandoning them once more." Numina looked at them pleadingly.
After a moment of hesitation, the older Warden spoke. "The grief they suffer now is because of the Blight, and we serve to protect others from it." He turned to his comrade looking for his response, receiving a nod in agreement. "We will keep the dead off of the village while you seal the rift. When it is no longer a threat we will continue with our mission."
"Thank you," Numina responded, relief softening her words. "The villagers will need all the help they can get."
Crestwood was situated on the banks of the lake. It was by no means a fortress, wooden walls being their lackluster choice of a barricade. The dead would slowly emerge from the depths of the lake, the water draining out of the many holes in their rotted bodies as they shambled forward, weapons in hand as they beset the pitiful village. The Grey Wardens they had recruited to aid the village were the first to charge into the fray, driving the dead away from the walls. Numina had Cole and Bull take on any new enemies that slunk their way forward from the lake while she and Solas provided support from afar; Numina with her arrows, and Solas with his magic. It wasn't long before the area was cleared out and the stream of dead coming forth became a slight trickle.
Shouts of thanks and blessings from the Maker drifted towards them through the rain from the ramparts as hunters who had done their best to keep the dead in check were finally given much needed rest and support.
"They should be safe," Solas commented, coming to stand beside Numina, "for now. But we will need to find a way to reach the rift in the lake."
"Agreed," Numina breathed.
"Scout Harding said that the mayor may be able to help us out," Bull chimed in. "Perhaps he could lend us a boat?"
"Yes, because my day wouldn't be complete without literal drowning," Numina answered sarcastically. "The unending rain just isn't enough for me anymore."
Solas chuckled throatily beside her, causing Numina to smile at her own response. "I would advise against drowning, Inquisitor."
"It was Bull's idea," she replied hastily, laughter singing within her voice. "I didn't say it was a good one."
"I thought it was a good one," Bull grumbled, shouldering his massive sword.
"Worry gnawed hungrily like the sickness burning through them. Guilt washes over him like a wall of water."
The three of them turned to face Cole, but the boy offered nothing more to the words he spoke, his face showing no emotion. Numina would be lying if she said it wasn't a little unnerving.
"Riiight," Bull dragged out, his word lengthening the amount of awkwardness that had swallowed the group. "Let's go see the mayor."
"Yeah," Numina agreed pulling a throng of leather from her belt and using it to tie her soaked hair up, keeping it from clinging to every inch of her skin. The normal pale blond that was so intoxicated was now more of a muddy black color, curling into single trundles as if she had just gone for a swim. Her clothes clung tightly around her slender figure, becoming uncomfortable. The others in her group were faring similar fates, though she was sure Cole was the one who minded the least; though maybe it was Bull who cared less since he was in fact wearing less clothing than any of them. And if Solas were in any discomfort, Numina knew that he would be the last to voice it. She didn't mind so much the way his clothing clung about him. It was very striking how muscular he was. His quiet demeanor never hinted toward the strength he held.
Having him nearby was just enough to take the edge off of the stress she was feeling already. After all, they were just supposed to meet Hawke's Warden friend, and there were already more than several strings attached to achieving that supposedly simple goal.
Caer Bronach loomed before them, the grey stone walls slick with rain. The others stood slightly off the path leading up to the fort, concealing themselves behind some of the sparse foliage to remain out of sight of anyone that might be on the ramparts.
"Rush in from the front?" Bull asked. "It would be a little risky, but we could do it."
"I'm thinking that it would be the quickest way to take care of them," Numina agreed, the trees providing a much needed respite against the wind. "It's only an option if there aren't any archers on the walls, though."
"I have seen none, so far, Inquisitor," Solas supplied, his watchful eyes remaining on the fort. "There has been no movement from inside."
"Cowering, shivering. Teeth chattering from wet and fear." Cole said. "The bandits are inside and hiding."
"Looks like the corpses and demons oozing from the lake are doing some good after all," Bull commented rather cheerily. "It's about time they became a nuisance for someone other than ourselves."
Numina shook her head lightly, dismissing his joke before she turned to look at Solas. "Think you can burn down the gate?"
There was just a hint of a smile to brighten up his features in this dismal place. "It should be easy enough."
The fireball that Solas conjured towards the gate was perfectly explosive, reducing it to nothing more than sad, smoldering splinters underfoot as they rushed inside. Shouts of surprise and alarm came from the few bandits that lingered by the door, failing to keep watch. A few of them were archers, but before they could make it to the roof of the empty stables for a better vantage point, Solas also reduced the ladders to ashes, a wall of fire spanning the entire width of the stables.
Cole remained close to Solas, defending him as he took on any ranged fighters, drawing their attention while Iron Bull went up against any enemy that was wielding a sword. Numina provided support for Bull, firing arrows with deadly precision to hinder enemies from landing any blows on the rampaging Qunari.
Bull had insisted that she be the one to cover him rather than Solas, grumbling about how he didn't want to make it halfway through a fight only to realize that his horns had suddenly turn into candles. Cole only added to his paranoia when he had made the comment that it would look funny.
As the group made their ways upstairs, more and more enemies came at them from ahead. "Aren't they running out of people yet?" Had been Bull's latest battle cry as he leapt back into the fray after a few seconds of respite they had upon reaching the battlements. With the extension of the fighting and the larger amount of bandits located in the fort, Numina had switched to her daggers to conserve arrows. She continued to support Bull, but in a more active way, taking out enemies on the fringes of his reach, waiting for an opportune time to attack. With twin fangs, Numina sliced her way through enemies, usually striking before they even had time to realize that she was there.
There was one warrior that had saw her coming, or perhaps he had simply realized that several of his friends were now missing and spilled all over the stone floor. This warrior actually went on the offensive instead of defending himself against Numina. He was apparently experienced enough to know that his bulk would not be able to move fast enough to block all of her blows. It was as he went to land a particularly powerful strike that pain shot explosively though Numina's left hand.
The abruptness of the pain from the Anchor ripping itself open once more caused Numina to fumble in her defensive stance enough to leave her open, and the numbness that enveloped her hand made holding her dagger impossible. It clattered uselessly against the cold, wet stone as she clutched her hand to her chest, hoping to hide the eerie green light it emitted.
Flames erupted before her, swathing the attacking warrior in searing light. His screams seemed to chase away the howls of the unrelenting wind and rain until Numina took on a two handed grip on her remaining dagger, driving it into the bandit's chest and finally ending his life after the few seconds of unfathomable torment.
At that same time, Cole and The Iron Bull had also finished the last of the enemies off, their bodies joining the others that now lay on the ground, blood mixing with the rain water. Numina retrieved the dagger that had fallen from her hand, sheathing it to her belt. As she turned to see how her companions had fared, she saw that Solas had already approached her.
"Are you alright?" He asked, concern causing his eyebrows to bunch up slightly.
"I'm fine," Numina lied, a smile attempting to make it convincing. Though she had pulled from her reserve of mana to wield magic against the warrior since all other options had fled, there had been no need to. Solas had saved her life. "Everything's just thoroughly soaked and extremely slick." The Anchor had closed nearly as quickly as it had opened and she prayed that he had not seen its sickly green glow.
The slight frown he had worn seemed to smooth away as he nodded lightly, allowing her to believe her lie had worked. Numina had not seen the faint traces of it still lingering as she went to see how Cole and Bull were doing.
Solas remained where he was, watching Numina with the same critical gaze he had since she first switched from using her bow to her daggers. He had been foolishly watching closely to make sure that she wouldn't need any help, foolishly paying more attention to her than to his surroundings or his own fight. If his foolish behavior ever resulted in something unfortunate, most would assume that he had seen the Inquisitor as priority because of who she was and because of the mark. A few might be able to guess that it was actually due to his foolish affection for her. But despite how much he might chastise himself for being foolish, his adoration and concern for her would be something he could not erase. Solas found it easy to believe that he would be keeping watch over her every second he was with her, and the idea of doing so was surprisingly pleasant.
And keeping watch over her was the only reason he did not believe Numina's convincing lie about how slippery things were as she tried to cover up the fact that the Anchor had been acting up and causing her pain.
The storms of his eyes followed Numina to where she stood, and he hoped that the magic embedded in her hand was not slowly killing her. As the days went on and as he spent more time with her, losing Numina might kill him more surely than anything else.
"By the Dread Wolf!" Numina exclaimed breathlessly. Her eyes had barely registered the full layout of the room, but she had seen just enough to know to turn on her heel and face the opposite direction, meeting the confused looks of her companions who had just entered The Rusty Horn.
Behind her, the sounds of several things toppling over and clambering against the floor, replaced the giggling and moaning that had been caused by the now shattered atmosphere between the two young lovers. A grin began to spread across Iron Bull's face as he picked up on what they had walked in on.
"It's the Inquisitor!" the boy gasped loudly, the sound of rustling clothing chasing his words.
"I thought you said this place was abandoned!" the girl accused, embarrassment and a slight bit of anger coloring her tone.
The Iron Bull started to snicker quietly, unable to contain himself, and drew the wrath of narrowed, accusing eyes from Numina. The overly inappropriate Qunari was not dissuaded, however. "Nothing like getting it on in a creepy abandoned tavern."
"It is certainly cheaper than paying for a room at a running tavern," Solas added a mischievous edge creeping into his voice.
Numina moved her glare over to Solas, her icy green meeting his stone blue storms. Behind his calculated and calm expression, there was a light about him, mainly shimmering in his eyes. He clearly found the current affair amusing, though not as much as Bull.
"If her father were to find out about us, he'd have my head," the boy offered in hasty explanation.
"And we tried the caves," the girl piped in, "but he's afraid of spiders."
"There's nothing wrong with finding solace with one another in terrifying times," Numina assured them, waving off their excuses with her hand over her shoulder. "We just weren't expecting to find anyone inside the creepy abandoned tavern."
"I told you this was a bad idea," the girl complained as she and her lover all but fled.
"Perhaps you should have knocked?" Solas teased once the rickety door had been slammed shut.
"You two enjoyed more than you should have," Numina said, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Come on, Boss," Bull said. "You need lighten up and have a laugh every now then."
Before she could argue with him about how she did in fact laugh every now and then and was light hearted enough, Cole finally decided to join in on the conversation. "It felt good, but it hurt, and the hurting is what felt good. But…how does hurt feel good?"
By now Numina thought she would be able to handle pretty much anything that came out of Cole's mouth given his affinity for saying what was on the minds of stranger and friend alike, especially given his outburst about her harallen past; however, his latest question was on a level she hadn't even considered. And she stared at the spirit, blank expression matching what was running through her mind in terms of finding something to say: nothing.
Bull's roaring laughter was the only thing that followed Cole's question immediately. "Don't worry, Boss," the gentle giant chuckled, wrapping his arm around Cole. "I've got this. You and Solas can see about releasing the water." He then began to lead the naïve spirit towards one of the tavern's tables that was most likely hold his enormous bulk and not crumble due to extensive rot.
"Thanks, Bull," Numina said, quickly retreating to the room at the back with Solas following before either of them had to listen to the Iron Bull give Cole an explanation.
The Qunari's words were muffled by the layers of stone and it was one conversation that Numina was glad to be left out of. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, however, a look of confusion spread across her features.
"That's odd," she hummed quietly, her words seemingly vibrating from her heart, "I thought the mayor had said these controls were destroyed by the darkspawn."
"Perhaps he merely assumed that the darkspawn had destroyed them," Solas offered in likely explanation, "or someone else repaired them?"
"Who would've repaired them, though? The bandits in Caer Bronach?" Numina asked. After receiving only a shrug from Solas, she sighed loudly, her posture sagging with fatigue ever so slightly, the strain from the day's events tiring her.
Solas frowned just enough to upset his naturally tranquil expression as he scrutinized Numina's body language. There was a small crack in the walls she put up to keep everyone in the dark about her physical an emotional state. Ever since they had left camp to make their way towards Crestwood, he had a lingering suspicion that something was wrong. Her blatant lack of acknowledgment of the Anchor acting up when they met the Grey Wardens and at again Caer Bronach had only served to confirm his suspicions and increase the concern he felt for her exponentially.
With a gentle and reassuring grip, he reached out to her, caressing her arm about her elbow, cupping it with enough of a curve to be a suggestive pull towards him. "Are you alright?" Solas asked, his words flowing softly from his lips, carrying his concern with a tender tone.
There was an instance where Numina's internal barrier was dispelled and she was laid bare before him. Behind the beauty of her eyes he could see pain, no doubt brought by the mark and any injuries she may have suffered during combat she had failed to mention. He could see the stress biting at her expression, the constant strain and worry always gnawing at her. Fatigue had settled in, though it was a battle of who could hold out longer: Numina or her waning strength. And just as it had so suddenly appeared in her, it vanished behind a charming smile meant to distract him from what he saw.
"You've been asking that quite a lot recently," she said playfully.
But Solas wasn't going to let her misdirect him. "You've been lying quite a lot recently as well."
Numina frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Solas," she sighed, "I'm fi-"
But Solas wasn't about to let her lie to him, or maybe herself, again. "Ma'din suledin'u nadas, Ash'len en Numin," You don't need to endure alone, Daughter of Tears, he said with a faint shake of his head, interrupting her.
Numina studied him for a moment, curious as to where this was coming from, what she had done to tip him off. Surely she did not look so fragile that she needed to be checked on every moment when things became a little more difficult than expected. But Solas' eyes held genuine concern within their depths, and she finally allowed herself to admit fatigue both physically and mentally for a moment; for not all trees can weather a storm and remain unbowed.
She leaned into him, a deep exhale relaxing her entire body, ruining the proper and attentive posture she always had, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I know," she said, her voice coming out in a soft him. "Ir tel'u." I am not alone. Numina smiled faintly into Solas' chest as she felt his arm loop around her, supporting her and drawing her in just a little closer. I have you, she thought, her heart swelling with the notion. If I only I could find the words to tell you how much of a difference that makes. Maybe then you wouldn't worry so much about me.
"Then don't do this alone," Solas said, his voice having an edge that would imply he was begging her not to be foolish anymore. "Talk to me-to us. We are here for you."
Pulling away slightly, Numina fixed her eyes on him. "We don't always have time, Solas."
"Yes," he agreed, "but when I find time to ask after you, surely there is also enough time for you to give a truthful answer." The way Solas looked at her was as if he was challenging her to make an excuse or argument against his words. She could not hold his gaze, instead letting her eyes drop to the stone floor. "You are always pressing forward, Numina, no matter how much you are in pain or how much it pains you to do so. And nothing good will come of it."
Numina glanced back up at him, seeing the concern he held for her painted across his face. "Are you saying that I can't do…" she struggled for a word, "this?" a wave of her hand indicated that she really meant everything.
"I am saying that if you chose to do it alone, you will not be the person I have come to care for any longer." His voice turned sorrowful, almost knowingly so. "Such behavior will break you, change you into someone even you would not be able to recognize."
"You sound as if you're speaking from experience," Numina added quietly, the gravity of his words and meaning sinking in.
"I have seen it." It was a quick answer, cut out of a painful memory sharply, coldly.
The response he gave was said in such a way that Numina knew not to press the issue, instead allowing a small hesitation in the conversation, settling her head against his shoulder once more, longing to have him as close as they had been that night in the Fade.
"Solas?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
Too often Numina would find herself overwhelmed as she had been in Redcliff and in her dreams; or she would find herself in danger of losing her life, as with the Conclave, the Hinterlads, or with the fall of Haven. And each time she found herself that sort of situation, there was always one person that was by her side: Solas. Numina knew that she could rely on the others, and she did from time to time; but it was always Solas that saved her from drowning in the things she didn't let on about.
Numina felt Solas press his cheek against her forehead, a small gesture of affection that drew her closer into him. His soft breaths kissed her skin as she longed for his lips to do, but instead he withdrew from her; a content look upon his face, a near smile. "Of course, Inquisitor," he said, the polite edge creeping back into his words. "Though I believe we should continue this conversation another time. You have a rift to seal."
"And here was I thinking we could just stay in the creepy tavern and leave the world to sort out its own troubles," Numina teased playfully as she sided up to one of the arms of the gear, bracing herself against it, her back arching seductively. A smile grew faintly upon his lips as he joined her on the other side.
After a few attempts of jarring it free of whatever rust or muck that held it in place, the pair was finally able to begin turning the apparatus, the gears groaning in protest with harsh, discordant sounds rapping against their ears. It only took several rotations for the mechanism to work, a loud and thunderous boom echoing before the whole building lurched. Water roared loud enough for them to hear through the stone, raging with the ferocity of a dragon as the lake began to drain.
Though when the group exited The Rusty Horn, they soon realized that it wasn't the water that was roaring.
A beautiful shade of violet was flying through the air, powerful wings brining torrents of wind across the stone bridge. The companions quickly took cover as the Nevarrian Hunter roared, its powerful voice shaking the whole world around her as she continued on her path southward, fortunately not noticing the potential meal trapped below.
"Did you see her?" Bull cheered loudly, once the high dragon had passed. "She was magnificent!" Numina straightened, as the others were, no longer needing to take cover behind the lacking stone walls of the bridge; and stared at Bull. "Please tell me we're fighting her!"
"You actually want to take on a high dragon?" she asked incredulously. "Are you mad?"
"Have you ever felt the power behind their wings as they pull you in?" he asked eagerly.
"No. Have you?"
"Well…no, but that's not the point, Boss."
"Oh?" Numina said, raising her eyebrows at her towering friend. "And what is the point."
The back and forth banter went on between the two as the group headed toward Old Crestwood that lay at the bottom of the lake. Solas watched them, trailing behind a ways and allowing their conversation to drift into soft background noise. Numina's wall of indifference was up once more as she played off anything she might be feeling.
Though he did not look to see if the spirit was nearby, Solas spoke to him in a way where none of the others would hear. "Is she in pain, Cole?" he asked, his voice as expertly manipulated into being indifferent as Numina's behavior.
There was a slight hesitation as Cole searched for the answer. "Sharp and jarring. Explosive and numbing. Ripping apart with searing pain. Hindering my fighting. Must keep it hidden. Can't slow down. So much to do, so much to do…"
"The Anchor."
Cole had appeared beside Solas now, and out of the corners of his eye, Solas could see the boy nod by the movement of his large hat. "It hurts her and scares her. But she keeps it hidden so that it doesn't scare or worry you. She doesn't want it to get worse. She's afraid of what it would mean if it was getting worse…"
And rightfully so… he thought darkly, quickly banishing the unpleasant thoughts before Cole could catch a glimpse of them. "Would you mind looking deeper, Cole? Past the initial pain?"
"I can try…" the boy responded, his youthful voice quivering with seeming uncertainty. The spirit concentrated. Her pain was the loudest thing he could hear, only second to the song seeping through the Anchor and the screams at the bottom of the lake. "There is something…" Cole finally said after a few moments of searching. "It's like a pressure, smothering her, slowing her. She feels tired at times because of it, and always blames it on something else. It's also the reason her head hurts from inside. It can get really bad sometimes... She's never realized what it's from or that it's from anything."
"Is she suffering from a headache now?"
"Yes…how did you know that, Solas?"
"A lucky guess," he said playing off the situation. "If it is not too much to ask, would you let me know if the pressure causes any changes in her, better or worse?"
"I don't know…" Cole said, "I don't think she'd like that."
"It would not hurt her for her to do so," Solas offered as a way to alleviate his doubt. "And would allow me to help her, Cole."
The spirit seemed to think the matter over for a moment, before his hat bobbed up and down once more. "Yes," he said, before disappearing from sight once more.
Solas continued to linger from the back, pondering the information Cole had given him. There was no way of knowing if he was correct, not yet at least; but with just a little more time and observations of his own and of Cole's, he would know without a doubt soon enough.
The trek to Old Crestwood was a very precarious one. The many years spent as a lake had softened the ground, making it behave as though it could barely support any weight at all; and the sudden loss of the water had eroded it into a smooth and slick surface that would make all attempts to snatch your boots, or at least send you landing into the mud if you refused to give them up. It wasn't until the group reached the remains of a gravel path that they were finally able to have a break from the constant stumbling.
Solas had found it slightly less difficult than the others continue forwards on the lakebed, and had remained towards the back, matching the pace of the others so they would assume he was having a rough time as well. He had continued to remain with his thoughts, missing most of whatever banter passed between The Iron Bull, Cole, and Numina. Though, most of his thoughts were of her. Even now, when he should be more focused on demons or undead that were scattered about their surroundings, his eyes wandered over to her, outlining her lithe form and nearly smiling at the fact that the grace she always held was back once more after its sudden disappeared at the first sign of undisturbed mud.
Presently she stopped abruptly, halting the others as well. Numina then reached for the bridge of her nose, and from where he stood, Solas could see her eyebrows pinched together and her jaw tighten in pain. She let her hand fall and shook her head lightly, as if to disband the pain she was clearly in.
"Oh…that smell!" she breathed, scrunching up her nose. Bull just coughed chokingly as his response to her exclamation.
And there was a foul order ripe in the air that had hit them as powerful as if they had run full sprint directly into a stone wall. It was a mixture scents. One of rot brought on by soaked wood and vegetation, which that scent alone would have been enough to turn the noses of normal people, however, something much heavier invaded the atmosphere: the smell of water logged flesh and fresh decay. Even Solas, despite his cold exterior found himself scrunching up his nose at the smell as well, shaking his head in vain to try and dissipate the strength.
That had not been Numina's lie. Her lie had been that it was the reason her head was throbbing; though whether or not she knew she was lying was another story. "Let us hope that we can find the entrance to the caves quickly then," Solas said, keeping his voice level despite the rising level of disgust.
"Agreed," Numina coughed. "Spread out and be careful." She groaned as a particularly nauseous wave of the stench. "Yell if you find anything or run into trouble," she then finished quickly in one breath before walking away from the group.
Solas chuckled softly at the uncharacteristically rushed and impatient manner she had spoken and moved. Usually Numina was all about grace and caution, attention to detail without skipping over anything. Always checking behind every door. Though he did understand why she was so eager to get out of the immediate area.
Numina had decided to move north, aiming towards where the lakeshore now rested with the loss of water from the dam, Bull moved to check the buildings near the old path that led to "New" Crestwood, and Solas went to check the area and buildings around the face of the cliff, picking his way through mud and vegetation. After checking the first of the buildings, Solas began to feel something familiar, a pull of sorts at the fringes of his consciousness. Old magic he had thought long lost. He had felt the same thing back in the Hinterlands as well, though it was much weaker, and had brushed it off as an apparition caused by the nearby rifts. And although the rift beneath the lake could be causing the same thing, Solas did not see the harm in investigating the source.
The whispers of the magic were coming from the shore, an old building that had long since sunk into the ground below it. Carefully so as not to disturb the precarious balance that supported the roof, Solas picked his way forward.
Surprise is a common feeling for him to experience, after so long, he has come to know what to expect; but surprise is what he felt when he saw the artifact intact.
Solas reached out to it, hoping that he might be able to stir the old Elven magic that rested within it, but the artifact remained cold, the magic remaining only a whisper around him. Another thing lost to me, he thought quietly, disappointment and sadness turning his thoughts sour. It seems that this is just another relic to fade from history and lose all meaning… Unless… Solas exited the collapsing building and looked around, searching for a moment. When his eyes fell on the one he was looking for, there was a small flicker of hope.
"Inquisitor!" he called softly, grabbing her attention from whatever she was looking at.
As she approached, Solas could see the slight pull of her eyebrows, as if she were lost in thought, Or enduring some kind of hidden pain. "Did you find the entrance?" Numina asked once she was near.
"Sadly, no," he replied. "But I did find something else that might interest you." Solas then led her into the building.
When Numina's eyes fell onto the artifact, she frowned slightly in curiosity. "I've seen one of these before," she mused.
"You have?" Another surprise.
"In the Free Marches," she answered, a small nod accentuating her answer, though her gaze did not leave the artifact. "I had discovered some old Elven ruins and one of these was inside." Numina's icy-green eyes moved to him. "The one I encountered was much…louder with the magic it stored than this one though…. I never did figure out how to awaken it though. No normal magic worked."
Solas smirked faintly. "That is why I called you over here. I hoped to try and awaken it with some abnormal magic."
Numina's eyes lit up when it dawned on her. "The foci orb you mentioned was also from the time of the ancient elves…"
"Meaning that the Anchor should be able to activate the artifact if the magic is similar," Solas finished.
The smile she offered him was faint, as was her small nod, before she reached out to the artifact with her left hand. Just as she was about to touch the smooth surface, the Anchor flared to life, and a surge of energy transferred from her to the artifact, activating the wards that had slumbered for so long.
Quickly, Numina snatched her hand back, fearful of any backlashes for waking the old magic, but there were no such repercussions. Instead, glyphs floated around the surface of the artifact, glowing with the same ethereal green that the Anchor possessed. Faint streaks of energy bolting two and from the glyphs like lightning, cracking softly. And for Numina, the air in the immediate area seemed to be lighter, and it was easier for her to breathe, though she quickly brushed it off as a trick of her own mind or caused by the Anchor.
"Do you know what its purpose was?"
"It originally was used to measure the Veil," Solas explained. "However, the wards are helping to strengthen it now and ward off against demons."
"If these artifacts were used to measure the Veil, do you think they could be used to predict where rifts are likely to appear?"
"Hmm." He had not thought of that. "If we to find and activate more of them, then that might be a possibility. I will let you know if I sense more of them on our travels."
"Sense?" Numina asked curiously.
Solas could not help but smile. "The magic that you could hear when standing next to it was all but calling to me at a distance. Now that I know these artifacts have survived, I will be able to feel their call with an unclouded mind in the Fade and mark their locations in the physical world."
"Impressive," she said curly, "though right now I would prefer if you found an entrance to the caves." A sly smirk spread across her lips as she winked at him, turning back to the drowned village in search of a way to the rift.
As soon as Numina had disappeared into another building, Solas turned to look for Cole, spotting the boy a ways away by the mayor's old house. "Cole," he said, grabbing the spirits attention was he had approached.
Solas did not even have to ask his question, the spirit knew what he wanted to know. "It's worse here. Much worse," Cole said cryptically. "The pounding is too loud and sharp, it makes images muddy and sounds unbearable. Breathing strained, having to fight for each breath in the suffocating air. Movements difficult, constricted, as if a struggling against a current of a river." The boy then turned to Solas. "I should leave."
"Why Cole?"
"It's the spirits that hurt her," he whimpered. "Purpose true or twisted, they all hurt her without having to touch her." His head dropped. "I hurt her."
"But it was not your intent to hurt her Cole," Solas tried to explain to the spirit, hoping to alleviate some of the conflict within him. "It is something that you cannot control, something that cannot be helped."
Cole's eerie blue eyes turned from the ground to Solas. "You know why she hurts, why our songs crush?"
"I do."
But before Cole could ask or Solas could give an explanation, a piercing whistle came from the left, along the side of the cliff. Both spirit and elf turned and saw Bull waving an arm, signaling them to his location.
"There are spirits even down here?" Bull grumbled once they had descended a precarious ladder to reach the bottom of the caves.
As he spoke, a red humanoid form hovered through the air. When it came to pass in front of them, Numina found herself flinching away from it as a sharp and intense ringing blocked out all sound and as an intense spike of pain from her headache caused her vision to flare with nothing but white. Instinctively with the pain, she let out a soft gasp, sucking in air at the sudden shock. It was only when the spirit had fully passed did Numina's vision and hearing return, though the headache and fatigue were still lingering with no less intensity.
"Are you alright, Boss?" Bull asked warily. Like Solas, he had also noticed the change in Numina from the very beginning. He was, after all, a damn good spy for the Ben-Hassrath; Bull had simply elected not to voice his concern. That was until he started to notice that whatever it was that was effecting Numina was getting worse.
"I'm fine, Bull," she sang quietly, her melodic voice unwavering and echoing off of the cave walls. "Let's just find that rift."
"It's humming below us," Cole said. "A window, wanting, wandering, looking back at what's looking," his voice sounding almost happy, or thoughtful at the least.
"Cole believes we are headed in the correct direction," Solas added once the spirit had finished with his sometimes intangible rantings; though Numina had managed to pick up the meaning of his words this time.
"Good to know," Bull said, his voice betraying that he still found Cole to be a little weird. "He could have just said that, thought."
"He did," Solas argued politely.
"Come on," Numina sighed, stopping them before they could begin a heated debate as she continued forward into the pitch black tunnels. When she passed one of the first torches that lined the walls of the cave, she lit it with a flick of her hand, using magic to bring flames to life.
The movement looked almost casual, an absentminded afterthought while she was more focused on the task at hand. It was those instances, when Numina used magic as though it was as natural as breathing that Solas found to be the most beautiful. They were rare, she was no mage by her standards, preferring to fight with physical weapons, drawing on her gift only when truly necessary; but using it was still instinctive to her. And when she wielded it, the beauty of her magic with its subtly reminded him of a time when such magic was an effect, and not a cause, of being Elven.
Numina descended downwards into the tunnel, the black jaws of darkness swallowing her as she entered; fortunately for her, there was just enough light from the first torch she lit to locate the second one further down, though just barely. It flared to life just as quickly as the ones before and with this torch, a ritual of sorts began. Just as the last rays of light from the previous would flicker almost undetectably faint, Numina would light another torch, giving her friends a well-lit path while she hoped that her steps remained true and didn't send her over an unseen edge on the fringes of light and dark.
"This path and these torches," Bull said, starting the framework of a question, "did people live down here?"
Cole was the only one with an answer however, "Yes, a wall of water, washing over. Lungs tight, bursting. And then suddenly soft, sleepy. Sliding away."
"Shit…" Bull hissed before allowing silence to reassert itself once more.
The tunnel began to open up slightly ahead of them with a more intense source of light chasing away the darkness. The group entered a clearing, with wooden ramps that spiraled down a whole in the center chiseled out by either many years of erosion from the waterfall spilling above their heads or it was manufactured as such. Whatever the cause, the increase in availability of space seemed to harbor an increase in the amount of spirits in the area.
Intense pain spiked in her head, pounding thunderously with metal barbs. The light pooling in from the hole in the ceiling was torturous on her eyes, and the sound of the water crashing was drowning. It brought Numina to a halt and her breathing became slightly labored as she brought her hand to her forehead, massaging it as a way to alleviate the pain, and doing so in vain. By the scrapping of their feet, she knew that Solas, Cole, and The Iron Bull had stopped behind her.
Don't say anything, Cole! she thought quickly, an overwhelming feeling of desperation accompanying the message. Please do not say anything. Whether or not it was due to her asking or that he was unable to process her desperation and pleading, much to her relief, the spirit stayed silent about her pain.
After a few moments, Numina felt that she was finally able to continue on; though it was not because the pain had lessened any. The pain still seared within her body, constricting her, making her feel nauseous, she had just become more acclimatized to it, as well as she could manage at least.
"Bull," she finally said, her own voice scraping against the inside of her skull, "would you mind taking the lead?"
"Sure thing, Boss," the gentle giant answered, his voice almost enthusiastic as a way to make Numina less self-conscious about whatever it was she was going through. "Come on, Kid. Time to put that weird shit you do to good use with some scouting."
As they began to descend down the wooden ramps a ways, Solas came to stand by Numina, a tentative hand laying gently on her shoulder. "What is it that you endure, Numina?" he breathed to her, his velvety voice soft, soothing, trustworthy…
"Just a headache, Solas," she said turning to face him. "I can endure it." A small smile danced upon her lips, an attempt to diffuse the situation, though Numina didn't wait around to see if it had managed to do so; withdrawing from the warmth of his hand and following Bull and Cole at a distance.
Solas wasn't sure what was more concerning, that Numina was lying about the extent of her suffering with a blatant understatement, or that whatever pain she was in was strong enough to where she thought admitting a part of the truth wouldn't be letting on enough about how truly bad it was. However, he knew that pressing the issue would make her admit to far less, since Numina was fine. As she always was.
Because she always has to be, he realized. So much hinges on her ability to constantly be relied upon. At first it was simply sealing the rifts, now the entire Inquisition… The others can show fatigue and admit to debilitating injuries, but that is because there is someone else to step in and take their position. Numina had no such replacement, no such backup plan. It was only this realization that made Solas drop the matter and allowed Numina to walk away without asking more off her, instead remaining behind her should she need someone to fall back on.
The further they descended into the caves, their slick surfaces proving to be difficult to traverse, the darker it became and the more skeletons they came across. As if to add to the already eerie atmosphere, Cole would speak of the lingering terror the rotted corpses held onto in the form of decaying memories. And even though there were more demons seemingly around every corner, the spirits lessened in volume, remaining closer to the surface. It wasn't much, but it alleviated some of the pressure Numina felt as fatigue, allowing her breaths to be less shallow.
After a while, the descent finally leveled off as the tunnels led them into old Dwarven ruins, the pillars and walls carved into the stone adding a strange kind of nostalgia to their surroundings. It was as they made their way further along the corridor with towering statues of Paragons long forgotten that Numina felt the Anchor tear itself open against her will, letting out a small hiss of pain as the mark raged with a corrupted green.
Numina shook her hand out, the agitation from the Anchor bringing numbness to her hand momentarily. "We must be close to the rift," she commented, slowing down to a more relaxed pace until the Anchor went dormant once more.
The Iron Bull nodded grimly, stiffening as he reached for his blade, building up the fortitude necessary for the coming battle. The quick to rampage Qunari remained at the front of the group, an indomitable wall that enemies would crash against, breaking themselves more readily than him. Cole remained at Bull's side, though his form was obscured by the shadows of the dimly lit ruins; his blades gleamed hungrily in the flickering red light, the sight of him looking more like a deadly assassin than a spirit of compassion. Solas remained at Numina's side, calm and collected, his face relaxed as he soundlessly reached for his staff. The sense of peace that he emanated did not lessen the intensity of lethality of his demeanor, however; and Numina could feel the air around him become dry and tense with energy the same way it would if lightning were about to strike.
Any relief that Numina had gained from distancing herself from the free roaming spirits had vanished, the tightness in her chest and on her mind becoming constricting once more. The Anchor had provided a distraction from the pressure's resurgence by suddenly becoming active as they drew closer to the rift. Pain and fatigue plagued her, and she knew that it would dampen the reflexivity that daggers would need in order to be affective. Her left hand closed around her bow, as she strung it and readied an arrow, hoping that the Anchor would not cause her to lose her grip as it had with her dagger at Caer Bronach.
With Solas at her side, Numina lined herself along the wall just outside of the opening that led to the rift; Bull stood across from her, Cole at his back as they lined up in a similar fashion. "We're going to have to rush in so we don't get caught in a choking point," Bull whispered, offering his sound advice on the matter
Numina couldn't help but smirk at him, "You offering to lead the charge, Bull?"
"Always, Boss," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders impatiently.
The feathers on the shaft of the arrow, tickled faintly as Numina dragged her thumb across them, calming down the nerves that always acted up whenever she was about to face off against a decent number of enemies. As she steeled herself for the coming battle, she also forced herself into a battle trance, pushing away all other feeling except for those required to fight. Glancing into the eyes of the others, she received a nod from each, signaling that they were ready to breach the room.
Numina breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the dank air of the caverns before nodding to Bull.
The towering Qunari lunged forward, bursting through the door with rampaging speed, his eyes scanning quickly before he changed the path of his charge, aiming for the biggest enemy he could find. His momentum propelled him forwards to the center of the room where the rift hung eerily in the air, the corrupted green casting everything in a twisted light.
Cole had disappeared amongst the shadows, flanking right towards lesser corpses, where glistening daggers sunk in and took them by surprise. He would deflect their jarred and slowed blows with quick flicks of his weapons, opening them up for attack before whittling away the already decrepit remains of their bodies.
Solas headed towards the left aiming for stalactites that erupted from the ground, using them as cover for his left flank. His magic flowed soothingly around the others as he cast barriers that would withstand a few initial blows, fading after a time; before he turned his magic offensively, crystalline ice encasing the rage demon that roared with fire. When the demon finally became immobile, Solas pulled from the primal forces of the fade and hurled a stone fist towards the demon, shattering it into brittle fragments
Numina remained in line with the door they had entered in from, fighting the anger surging from the Anchor as it tore itself to life as she released her arrow. She had been aiming for a lesser shade, yet the pain she thought she had managed to push away, dug in deeply, and her arrow soared above the shade's head, clattering against a nearby wall uselessly.
"Shit!" she hissed, quickly retrieving another arrow and firing within seconds of the other, striking the shade in the back. It let out a roar as the projective burrowed itself in the demon's skin.
Allowing the pain and fatigue she was in fuel her with anger, Numina fired another few arrows in quick succession, catching the shade in the chest and lower torso, yet the monster continued to hold onto its footing in the real world. Numina growled in disgust and pain, taking aim with another arrow.
It flew with the anger that burned within her, striking the shade dead center of its chest, erupting into charring flame instantaneously. The shade screamed as its form was destroyed, its soul retreating back across the rift.
Numina hadn't even realized she had called on her magic until she saw the flames, the inferno startling her just as much as it did the shade; but she could not dwell on it. She shouldered her bow hastily, raising her hand and allowing the mark to connect with the rift.
This time was different. The fatigue that had sapped her since they arrived at Crestwood had an effect. It weakened her and the foreign magic that rested within the mark. The rift's energy was much stronger than the smaller rifts she had sealed, and began to pull fiercely against her mark, as if to deflect the energy the Anchor was pouring into it to seal the Veil by directing it around itself. Numina had to stabilize her arm with her other hand to keep herself in place as the Anchor took its time sealing a portion of the rift, a surge of green energy dissipating explosively.
The abruptness of the severed connection caused Numina to stumble backwards, kicking up the water that pooled around her ankles.
"Inquisitor!" Solas called out to her in alarm regarding the effect the Anchor had on her.
But Numina ignored his concern, focusing on the massive task that still loomed before them. "Cole, stay close to Solas!" she shouted, her words quick and shallow from the breathlessness of effort. "Bull, get ready for something much bigger!"
"And here I thought I wasn't going to be given much of challenge," he growled fiercely.
Arming herself with her bow once more, Numina took up a different position closer to the rift, scrabbling across the slick, water eroded rock that gave her a height advantage over the demons that were about to appear.
Tendrils of green energy shot out from the rift, marking the locations the demons would appear at. Numina took aim for the largest one, pouring her anger, frustration, and fatigue into the tension of the bowstring, channeling it all the way to the tip of the arrowhead. The Anchor burned at its edges, her head throbbed with unending pain, and her entire body ached as if the air was crushing her. But she could not let it slow her down, instead turning it into raw emotion and using it as a weapon.
Seconds before the demons appeared, Cole gasped from beside Solas, "She's glowing! The Fade is hers." It drew Solas attention, but-
Pride let out an unearthly roar as lightning danced between its claws. Numina released her arrow, magic channeled consciously this time as it struck the powerful demon, encasing it in ice.
"Bull, now!"
The now tiny Qunari compared to the Pride demon rushed forward towards it, sword brandished and stained with blood. As he charged, Solas' magic cast lightning in a chain that destroyed the pesky wisps and weakened the lesser shades. Cole struck from the shadows at the demons that were incapacitated from the mage's electricity, yet the spirit remained mindful of his distance from Solas, never straying too far.
The Iron Bull's pained cry drew everyone's attention as Pride battered him aside, sending him crashing into the side of a stone pillar. Instinctively, Numina called out after him, though his name died on her lips as she saw the many eyes of the demon turn to her. She felt her heart drop and the cold feeling of dread wash over her as the realization of what was to come next hit her.
"Numina, get out of there!" Solas shouted, for neither he nor Cole would be able to get passed the shades that had followed Pride through the rift.
Her previous height advantage could no longer be considered as such compared to the towering demon that was now laughing monstrously at Numina's situation as well. With nowhere to run, she was forced to do something desperate. Numina poured her raw emotion and her own magic into the Anchor and raised it towards Pride.
The feeling of the energy being release from the Anchor was electric, surging through her before she directed it to a fixed point, a green swirling mass appearing behind the demon. Numina's own rift. The Pride demon screeched in pain and anger as it was sucked backwards, its claws slicing through every surface it tried to gain purchase on. With one final rage filled roar, Pride was gone and the rift Numina created closed behind it.
With only enough time to let out one shaky, relief filled breath, Numina once again used the Anchor, allowing it to connect to the larger rift for the last time. By the time the rift exploded, vanishing as the Veil was healed, Numina's breathing was ragged as exhaustion constricted her lungs.
Bull rose to his feet, hurting but not dead from the blow the Pride demon had struck. Retrieving sword, his words quickly turned to mistrust and skepticism. "Maybe next time you give us a little warning about being able to create the shit you're supposed to be sealing," he growled breathlessly, challenging her.
Numina had yet to catch her breath, and instead opted to stare at him in disbelief. I saved your life and sealed the rift… she thought. What more am I supposed to do?
"That's enough, Iron Bull," Solas snapped, his own words light from the adrenaline of battle and exertion. "The rift is sealed, is it not? And you are alive thanks to her." Though, Numina was thankful for him defending her, she felt that he didn't need to be so cold with is response.
"If that mark on her hand can create rifts just as easily as it can seal them," Bull said, his voice growing darker as he turned on Solas, "what's to say that instead of stopping the demons coming through, she creates a bigger hole for them?"
"I would say that she's the one keeping that from happening," Solas retorted snidely, bitter sarcasm leaking into his tone, "but then I remember that I am talking to a mindless beast of the Qun and you would rather see us all collared with our mouths sewn shut one way or another."
"Ugh…come on!" Bull growled. "With magic like this, you can see why my people fear mages so much."
"Fear is no excuse for the monstrous things the Qunari do," Solas snapped.
"Is it not!?" Bull countered. "Demons are everywhere, pouring from an unknown number of holes in the Veil. Fear seems pretty reasonable when you take that into consideration."
"Then I am surprised that your people haven't gone one step further as the Templars of Orlais and Fereldan are willing to go with the Right of Annulment and just slaughter all your mages if they are so dangerous and your people so fearful… If we are taking into consideration the Breach and the rifts."
Numina was finally able to breath, and slid from her perch on the rocks.
"Both of you that's-"
But she wasn't able to get a word in edgewise.
"At least our mages didn't start a war and destroy half a country with their magic. We have our mages under control." Bull replied, his voice becoming louder. "And they may be dangerous but our Saarebas have a place in our society."
"Stop this!" Numina snapped.
Her voice fell on deaf ears. They were locked too tightly into their argument.
"Is that what you think the Qunari have? A society?" Solas shook his head as if he was chastising a child. "What the Qun is, is indoctrination, and the people are nothing but soulless drones."
"Watch it elf!" The Iron Bull said in a low and threatening growl, drawing himself to his full height. "You want an example of a mindless beast, you look at the Tal-Vashoth. The Qunari are better than that. We don't butcher a Tamassran and her kids simply because they aren't the same."
"No," Solas replied contemptuously. "You merely remove all free will and sense of choice they have."
"Solas, enough!" Numina tried.
Nothing.
"You think the servants who work in Orlais have choice?" Bull roared. "They still have to follow laws and work as others dictate or be forced to beg on the streets."
"But at least their thoughts are not policed as those under the Qun are! They are free to think as they will and choose to work or not to," Solas argued. "They may not be successful and they might fail, but if they wish to quit being a servant and become…a poet, they have the freedom to do so."
Numina looked at her companions in despair. Why aren't they listening? Why do they continue with this argument? The adrenaline that had smothered her during the fight had vanished during their argument, and the pain in her head was thunderous, her muscles felt as though every inch of her had been racked with claws, aching with unseen wounds. Their shouted words reverberated like swords dancing between the confines of her skull. And there was nothing she could do to stop this argument or the pain. Numina was exhausted in every sense of the word.
"What is the point of having choice if that servant is doomed to fail!?" Bull continued. "And the servant will fail because the deck is stacked against them! The Qun removes that crippling feeling by giving people purpose."
"The point is the choice!" Solas roared, his voice filled with an anger Numina had never heard before. "Choice is a part of life, it is part of living. Strip that away and there is no point in living."
"Because choosing gives you purpose?" Bull disputed. "But what happens when your choice lands you with a purpose you're no good at and fail to accomplish? The Qun gives you a purpose you will succeed at. It trains you for that purpose your whole life."
"Failing or succeeding isn't what matters, Iron Bull," Solas said, his voice becoming uneasily calm and cold. "It is the act of freedom that does."
"I'm sure the elves in the Alienages would agree with you."
There didn't seem to be an end for this argument in sight. Numina's eye danced between Solas and Bull, her heart filled with fear that they might soon begin trading actual blows. Everything was so overwhelming, the pain, the noise, the blinding light that she couldn't shield her eyes from… The room began to spin, and Numina thought of calling out to them once more, but she knew they would not hear her. Instead she closed her eyes and let the pain lead her to whatever it may.
It was Cole who caught Numina, cradling her head as he lowered himself to the ground with her so that the fall wouldn't hurt her. The spirit held her softly, attempting to keep her comfortable even though her awareness was gone.
Solas had been in mid-sentence when Numina had lost consciousness. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen her legs crumple, saw Cole appear from the shadows to catch her. Instinctively, he had run to her side, kneeling before her and the spirit, quickly checking for a pulse while his magic searched for a wound.
The Iron Bull had followed Solas, though he stayed a few steps away, feeling guilty for the way he had spoken to her before allowing himself to be drawn into an argument with Solas. He watched silently and remained standing; a towering statue on guard.
Why wasn't I paying attention? Solas thought, cursing himself for his foolishness. I allowed myself to get carried away with a trivial argument and now she is paying the price.
"She followed her pain," Cole offered in explanation.
Solas' eyes flicked from Numina to the spirit for a moment before returning to back to her pained expression as the spirit softly smoothed away Numina's hair, revealing the Vallaslin that trailed along the side of her face, outlining her eye. Whether or not the act was out of compassion or for some ulterior motive was unknown to the Fadewalker. Though he could not help but notice that the markings of Mythal seemed to add an almost catlike, feral look to Numina's features.
"Whatever the Inquisitor is suffering," he said, returning to formality though the concern that tore at his chest was much more than that, "it is not from any physical wound."
"Could it be from exhaustion?" Bull asked, the anger filled tone from their argument nonexistent. "She's been acting strange ever since Caer Bronach."
"It is a possibility," Solas said, though he knew otherwise. In truth, he would have liked to follow her conscious to wherever it might have taken her in the Fade, to observe what had happened or to ask her questions. However, it was not necessary. Solas had known the source of Numina's suffering ever since they entered Old Crestwood and after Cole's read on her after she had activated the Elven artifact.
The large Qunari hummed in contemplation before speaking again. "We should not linger here. Rift sealed or not, it's still dangerous."
"Agreed."
His next suggestion was said much more carefully, "Out of the three of us, it would be easier for me to carry her through the caverns."
Solas seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. "We should make our way to Cear Bronach," he said as he backed away, giving consent for Bull to approach. "With any luck, Inquisition soldiers will have received our message and already be there to occupy the fort."
The giant slowly wrapped his arms around Numina, her body frail and slump as he gently lifted her into his arms, careful not to crush her. "Cole, scout ahead for us, would you?" Bull suggested, his deep voice echoing within the ruins.
Cole rose from where had been sitting with Numina, and nodded his agreement, retrieving his daggers and remaining visible to the others as he made his way out of the room, retracing the steps they took on their way to the rift.
Solas remained by Bull's side as they walked through the caverns, the animosity between them having evaporated in seconds. Instead, the anger had been replaced with concern; a feeling that bit deeply into Solas, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. He had been watching out for her, telling himself that he would be there should she need someone to fall back on; and the moment she needed someone, he had been distracted by a childish argument.
As he mentally berated himself for his foolishness, somewhere deep within himself came the gnawing thought that he shouldn't be so emotionally invested in the Inquisition, in her. But as Solas looked at Numina's fragile form held as if it were lifeless in Bull's arms, the pain in his chest was real, the guilt and concern were real; she was real. It was a realization much more shocking and dangerous than any true foe. Because if Numina was real…
Author's Note:
Well, I am a horrible person for having taken the longest break in the world on this (just as I did with all my other stories over the summer) and now I am starting back up for college.
I tried to make this one a bit on the long side to make up for the fact that I'm a horrible person who hasn't written anything in forever.
Anyways, latest chapter! Yay!
Please let me know what you think. Hopefully I will be progressing with the romance and story soon to where Solas finally starts calling her Vhenan (it was so difficult not to use it in this chapter. There were a few places it would have worked so well).
Oh, and if you see any grammatical or sentence construction that's incorrect and/or makes things clunky or muddy, please feel free to let me know so that I can go in and make any adjustments.
Thanks for reading.