The shield weighed heavily on Dane's arm - his left hand no less. The mark on his palm wrapped around the handle shined against the interior metal of the shield, illuminating it like a viridescent lantern. He peeked over the edge of the iron, trying to discern where Sera had pranced to. Cassandra had made good on her word to train Dane on their return to Haven, instructing Sera to teach him stealth and projectile defence. 'After the disaster that was Val Royeaux I should just be glad it's not Cassandra giving me a beating'. He remembered the mixture of bemusement and anger written on her features as the group had left the capital. Not only had they been publicly disavowed by the Chantry and the Templars, but the Grand Enchanter had approached them for help afterwards. Dane grimaced as he remembered the almost childish excitement he had felt at meeting Fiona. Cassandra had stood next to them, positively stewing that the leader of her order had abandoned the city. 'Not one of your most tactful of conversations' he chided internally.
Dane heard the unmistakable sound of a bowstring being stretched to his left. He hastily turned to his side, nearly slipping on the hardened snow crushed under his boots. He peered around the shield once more, hunting for the messy blonde locks in between the wooden crates and cabins of the village. 'How can someone with such an outrageous outfit hide so well?' he grumbled to himself. One of Sera's padded arrows whistled through the air slightly to his right, smacking into his shoulder with certainly enough force to bruise. 'How in the world..' he quickly righted his footing, resisting the urge to drop the shield and to massage the pain out of his shoulder.
"Where are you, woman!" He growled into the chilly air. He heard Sera cackle in response from behind one of the wooden buildings. The group had doubled its members from the trip to Val Royeaux, Sera being one of them. 'Not a complete disaster, then.' Dane had quickly befriended the cheeky elf. He relished that she treated him as a person, rather than the figurehead he was quickly becoming. The other addition, however, frankly scared him. He had felt immensely out of place at the soiree he attended to recruit Vivienne, and even more out of place with a woman of her stature following the Inquisition with him at its head.
Dane advanced between the two buildings where he had heard Sera's whimsical laughter. He paced cautiously, keeping the shield flush against his body. His right hand was tense at his side, aflame in a shroud of violet. He was almost irritated, 'How am I meant to be stealthy with both of my hands lit up like beacons?' Almost to prove his point, Sera leapt down from the roof above him and crashed onto his shoulders, sending him sprawling into the snow.
"Gotcha, Herald!"
Dane glared up from the ground, snow and dirt stuck to his face and hair. She was grinning from ear to ear, her bow strapped to her back.
"That wasn't part of the rules." He mumbled, slowly sitting up on the could feel the snow soaking into his breeches and chilling his skin.
"Real fights don't have rules, oh Lord Herald." She paused and twisted her mouth. "Well, maybe ones with Cassandra being all knight-y or whatever. But us little ones use every dirty trick in the book." She said knowingly, extending her hand.
Dane huffed and took the hand she offered, letting her pull him halfway up before he felt the sickening rush of gravity snatching him back to the ground. He crashed back to the snow with a very unmanly "oof", quickly snapping his head to Sera to scowl at her betrayal. She had already turned and was skipping away, guffawing into the mountain air.
"Tricks like that one!" She shouted over her shoulder.
Dane groaned to himself, lying still in the melting powder and feeling the fabric of his shirt soak up the icy moisture below him. Soft footsteps approached his feet a few moments after Sera's laughter had faded. Dane didn't look up, suspecting her back already.
"If you've come to dump more snow on me, I warn you I have magic and I'm not afraid to use it!" He let his voice rise a few octaves with the threat.
"Herald, if I may speak to you."
Dane quickly rose to his elbows, recognising the airy tone of Solas's voice. The man stood at the end of the small alley with a curious look simmering in his eyes.
"Of course, I was just.." Dane stood. He gestured to the white surrounding them, trying to find some explanation for lying on the wet ground. 'Always making good impressions, that's me' he thought in exasperation. Solas bowed his head and smiled, letting him trail off. The pair began a slow walk towards the chantry. Dane left the heavy shield in the snow.
"I see Seeker Pentaghast has tasked you with training." Solas spoke in that gentle tone of his that never seemed to waver. "While the others train you in the more physical aspects of battle, I wondered if you might like to explore your magic further. I suspect the circle does not allow for such training."
Dane stopped in his tracks, looking to him with wide eyes.
"You mean.. blood magic?"
Solas let out a chuckle, taking his wrist in his other hand.
"No, Herald. While a very interesting branch of magic, I suspect that the Seeker would object." Dane let his eyebrows return from his hairline. "Not all that you are not taught falls into the realm of demons and sacrifice," He said honestly. The pair stopped at the doors of the chantry.
"I believe you would benefit from harnessing your own power into something more precise. It is your decision, however." Dane nodded as Solas inclined his head and turned to walk to his own cabin. Dane thought back to the few battles they had faced, remembering how Solas had always been in the background; weaving spells and barriers into each skirmish with efficiency and grace. Warriors who had charged at Varric and Cassandra had been frozen in their tracks, shattering with a bolt from Varric's crossbow or a swing from Cassandra's sword. Arrows that had flown towards them had shattered in a teal haze – Solas's barriers at work.
Dane resolved to take Solas up on his offer as he pushed open the wooden doors of the chantry, stepping into the warmth and smell of melting wax.
The rift in front of the wrought iron gate to Redcliffe was fracturing and morphing unnaturally. Some parts thrusting with rapid mechanical speed, others grinding and splintering languidly. Dane felt the mark on his hand begin to flare and burn with the particular intensity that hinted a rift was near. He tightened his hand, 'this thing almost has a mind of its own.' Cassandra and Solas stood either side of him; she with a grim frown etched into her features, and he with his mouth pulled tight in thought.
"What.. is that?" Dane breathed, not taking his eyes off the puncture in the sky. Solas stepped forward, turning to face both Cassandra and Dane.
"The rift seems to be manipulating time around it."
Dane combed the depths of his mind, 'one thing I was always good for was being a bookworm', he , no knowledge he had devoured from the library of Circle tomes he studied sprung to mind.
"Manipulating time? What in Andraste's knickers does that mean?" Sera piped up from behind the trio. Dane turned to face her. She had hung back from them as they walked, preferring to amble through the plains of the Hinterlands at her own pace. She looked positively ill. Her face was drained of all colour and her knuckles were stark white against the polished wood bow in her hands. 'I wonder if I looked that terrified when I first saw the rift'. He thought back to Cassandra first showing him the breach in the sky and the comical expression he had let spread over his face. 'Definitely'.
Cassandra turned around to face Sera. "Go up to the ridge." she gestured to the slight slope to her right that ran perpendicular to the rift ahead of them. Sera looked like she was about to argue. Cassandra gave her a firm look. Sera exhaled loudly but clamped her mouth closed and jogged to the incline, sending a shower of dirt and rocks to the ground as she scrambled up. Dane waited for the Seeker's usual command for him to hang back and try not to die. It never came. He slowly drew his head up as she retrieved her shield from the harness at her back, strapping it to her left arm in a graceful movement that showed years of practice.
"And me, Cassandra?" He queried, trying to swallow the nerves in his voice. They had a habit of appearing right before a fight. 'And every time you look at the Seeker' a small voice in his head interjected. She gripped the handle of the longsword sheathed at her side and gave him the same firm glance she had to Sera.
"You are with me, Herald. If this rift is manipulating time as Solas suggests, we will need you to close it quickly."
'Well, I have to die someday.' Dane's thoughts were bitter and frail. The sudden leaden feeling in his limbs was not. He swallowed harshly and looked to Solas who had scaled the ridge to join Sera. He was crouched behind a dip in the ground, weaving tendrils of blue and green energy between his fingers. Dane recognised the spell from their brief lessons - he was preparing a barrier. He jolted as he felt a gloved hand clasp his shoulder.
"Stay behind me and focus on the rift." Her hand was heavy on his shoulder, gripping the folds of the armour Haven's blacksmith had given him. Dane studied her face, hoping to find a sudden transfusion of bravery there. Her bronze eyes were calm and steady, and her mouth curved slightly at the edges. He exhaled sharply and gave a slight nod, willing the churning in his guts to settle. She gave him one last look before removing her hand and turning back to the green mass churning in the sky.
The tavern was empty and unlit. Gaps in the window shutters let slivers of afternoon sunlight illuminate strips of the well-worn chairs and tables dotting the room. Dane looked around as he stepped in cautiously, hastily wiping the remains of the black grime from his face and hands with a rag. He heard his companions file in the door behind him and fan out across the entrance.
"All that and nobody bloody turns up? Some messenger he was." Sera snorted, referring to the lithe elven man that had accosted them after entering the city. Dane looked over at her words, seeing the colour had almost fully returned to her cheeks. He turned away and lifted his hand towards his face. The mark had fissured once more, following the creases in his palm. 'At this rate I'm going to turn into a rift myself' he thought anxiously. The green flame was permanent, sizzling in each crack like sunlight in a broken mirror. He swallowed, willing the quivering in his tendons to stop and the sick feeling bubbling in his throat to fade.
"It could very well be a trap." Cassandra murmured in her halting accent, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword as she stepped cautiously through the room.
"Welcome, friends."
All four in the room whipped around at the new voice floating down the stairs of the tavern. Dane narrowed his eyes at the hooded man sauntering down the stairs. He immediately recognised the garb the man was clad in as Tevinter, recalling illustrations of magisters in a tome on the Imperium he had studied. The man had a smug leer painted on his face, matching his confident breezed towards the table at the far end of the room and sat heavily, crossing his legs and eyeing the group with detached interest.
"I am Gereon Alexius. I presume you have heard that Redcliffe is currently under my protection." His tone was condescending and oily.
"We have, yes," Dane said as he stepped forward, surprising himself with his own initiative. "We are looking for mages to help seal the breach." He was careful to keep his palm facing away from the magister. The wooden chair creaked and groaned as he sat.
Gereon studied him for a moment. Dane didn't miss the man's eyes flick to his hand. "These mages come with a cost, I hope you realise." Alexius said slowly.
Dane frowned in confusion, remembering Fiona's offer back in Val Royeaux. Solas voiced his concerns for him.
"Grand Enchanter Fiona invited us here," Solas said in an impossibly relaxed tone.
"We were to negotiate with her, not you." Finished Cassandra in a cold voice.
Gereon's mouth curled into a smirk. "Fiona was the one who handed protection of the mages to me, my friends. Ask her, if you do not believe me at my word." He gestured to the stairs that he had entered from. Two figures stepped into the muted light from the window beside the door. Another younger man garbed in yellow Tevinter garments and Fiona herself. The Grand Enchanter stood with her hands clasped at her waist, her head downcast.
"It is true." She said quietly.
After a few more minutes of strained back and forth between Dane, his companions, and Alexius, the room seemed to fall silent.
"I believe that concludes our business." The magister said, pushing out of his chair with a screech of wood on the stone. He extended his left hand, prompting Dane to clasp it in return almost automatically. The man's grip turned to steel around Dane's wrist, causing him to grit his teeth and glare tensely at Alexius. The magister rotated his hand with a snap, gazing intently at the green fissures lining Dane's skin. Just as quickly as the man had grabbed him, he released his hand and strode to the tavern's door, ignoring the fixed looks from Cassandra and Solas. Dane walked to the door as Fiona meekly followed Alexius out into the township. The man who had been lurking in the shadows since the beginning of the meeting cleared his throat, placing what looked to be a scrap of parchment on the table next to him. The man watched Dane as he followed the magister out the door, 'is that.. sympathy?' Dane wondered, seeing the peculiar look marring the man's face.
Only once the door to the tavern had been slammed closed by Sera did Dane move to the table, gently grasping the piece of soft vellum between his fingers. His eyes scanned the scrap quickly. He sighed and passed the parchment to Cassandra who had come to stand next to him.
"Come to the chantry," she read, "You are in danger."
Dane opened his palm once more, feeling the mark burn another snaking crevice to his wrist.
[A.N] A big thank you to all that have read, followed and favourited, and an even bigger thanks to those that have left reviews. The story is still at a bit of a slow pace, particularly between Dane and Cassandra, but fear not. It is on its way. [/A.N]