The trebuchet locked with a final solid click. The snow scattered around Dane's feet as he stepped backwards. He squinted back and forth between the siege engine and the snowy peak that loomed behind Haven, making sure the chunk of rock wouldn't undershoot and fly straight into the township.
Once he was satisfied the machine was indeed aimed correctly, he took a breath, just noticing the collection of corpses around him. 'Always hated waiting,' He thought with a shrug. 'May as well make the most of my spare time.' He crossed the blood-soaked dirt to the nearest slain Templar.
The body had fresh singe marks around its throat, thanks to a blast of his violet lightning. Dane brushed his fingertips over the pauldron of the man's armour. Small shards of red lyrium were crystallised in the metal. They pulsed in a dim rhythm; the strangest sort of heartbeat.
His investigations were soon disrupted. Every muscle in his body pulled taut as he heard the return of the dragon. Its demonic screech was deafening; too close. He pushed to his feet, dashing back to the trebuchet. The beasts' wings thundered from above, its great wingspan shadowed over the clouds of smoke hanging in the air.
"Come on, Cullen.." Dane hissed through clenched teeth.
His eyes were fixed on the dragon; fear needling his spine as the heavens fell quiet and the black shape disappeared. Dane's eyes darted along the skyline; his knuckles clenched white around the trebuchet's release. The wind howled along the battlefield, whispering ash through the trees.
All feeling in Dane's body disappeared as he spied his adversary. Before he could react, his world spun into a terrible whirlwind, pain and nausea almost overwhelming him as an explosion of crimson fire cast him from the earth. Copper tasted in his mouth as he crumpled to the ground, limbs tangled and bent.
"Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."
The ground rumbled as the dragon crashed to a halt behind him, threatening to topple his already injured form over as he attempted to stand.
"Wh.. Why are yo-" Dane spluttered, rivulets of blood leaking from the corners of his lips. He was transfixed, gaze locked onto the terrifying man that approached him. The enemy was monstrous; a towering creature made of flesh and metal that had become one, and with a gaze that seemed to search into his very soul.
"Mortals beg for truths they cannot have," The being growled, his voice as low and thundering as a waterfall. "It is beyond what you are.. What I was. Exalt the Elder One. The Will that is Corypheus."
Dane shuffled as far in retreat as he could, every instinct he had screaming at him to flee from the death that stood near.
"I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now."
Corpyheus's blackened hand curled around a small orb, casting a barrage of red energy that latched onto Dane's mark. His knees buckled in agony. Every fibre of muscle in his arm now sought to tear from under his skin, straining and burning from the magic that assaulted him.
The Elder One gave a guttural roar that almost matched that of his dragon when nothing seemed to happen. He snatched up Dane's arm, hauling him into the air.
"I once breached the Fade in the name of another. To serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person." He thundered, drinking in the sight of the fractured mark on Dane's hand. "I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused; no more."
"I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter, and to correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the Gods.. and it was empty."
The end of The Elder One's speech was punctuated by Dane's world spinning once more. New spikes of pain erupted in his body as he crashed into the side of the trebuchet. Blinding white flashed behind his eyelids as he forced himself to stand, his hands grasping at the outcropping of wood. He squinted at which his bloodied hand rested upon. 'The release lever..'
"The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling." The Elder One announced, advancing with his great beast only footsteps behind. "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation and God it requires."
Dane looked to the heavens in despair, hoping he hadn't missed the signal to fire.
"As for you.. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die."
A solitary arrow blazed through the sky behind Corypheus's piercing glare; slicing through the inky night. With one last burst of energy, Dane booted the release for the trebuchet and watched the final hope for the Inquisition smash into the side of the mountain above.
'Cold.' Dane groaned in pain, his beaten limbs struggling to unfurl from where he lay. 'If this is the Maker's side..'. He cast his watery gaze around his surroundings, realising he had fallen into a tunnel of some sort. With concerted effort, he got to his feet and thudded into the wall of the passage. He slid his hand along the slippery surface in front of him, desperately hoping he was stumbling to an exit.
'How long have I been in here..' Dane thought with notes of panic stirring somewhere in his gut. He held the less injured of his arms to cover his face. He had indeed found the mouth of the tunnel, but it hadn't revealed any holy deities or paradises, only a furious blizzard.
'If I don't find some way to treat these injuries, I'll die in this godforsaken cave.' He gazed down at his torso, marvelling at the fact he was standing, let alone considering venturing out into what was almost a certain, frostbitten, death.
He clenched his teeth and braved his first step into the fury of the weather. The tender skin of his face and hands stung immediately. Ice pelted into him without relent, scouring any remaining warmth from his cheeks and snaking into every crevice of his armour. He covered his eyes as best he could from the howling wind and limped forward through the snow.
'Typical,' Dane thought with a ragged growl. 'Not only am I traipsing through a blizzard,' He paused for a moment, ripping his leg from a thigh deep patch of icy powder. 'But I'm traipsing uphill.'
The sheer agony from earlier had faded from his body, now reduced to a dull throb after what felt like hours of trudging through the white landscape. Dane knew it was not a good sign. Once pain left, what would keep him from simply giving up, and settling into the blanket of snow? It grew more inviting with each leaden step he took. It was soft. Heavy. If he imagined hard enough, it might feel like the thick furs of his bed back in Haven.
'Haven..' The recent memory of Corypheus came crashing through the fog of his exhaustion. Dane choked back a noise of anger at the flashes of burning bodies and screams that raced through his head. He stopped and pulled his hand to his eyes, glaring at the emerald flames ever licking under his skin.
'I can't abandon them. This cursed mark is the only way.'
After a time, the wind grew silent in his ears. All he could hear was his shivering breath and the clacking of his teeth. Darkness had encroached on his vision, much like the icicles that formed on his lashes. He tried to curse, to make some show that he could carry on, but nothing would come out.
Finally, Dane fell to his knees. He tried to stand once more, but crumpled. His limbs could no longer obey. With the very last reserves of his consciousness, Dane lifted his marked hand and reached towards the sky. A beam of familiar jade energy blasted through his veins and out his fingertips, lighting the white world a sickly green. His body then slumped backwards, leaving him staring at the patch of the starry heavens above.
"What would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!"
Dane finally opened his eyes. Everything, every muscle, every tendon, every damned bone in his body ached. He had been semi-conscious for some time; the raging argument between his advisors rivalling that of the blizzard itself.
"We cannot simply ignore this. We must find a way!"
He shifted his unfocused gaze upon hearing Cassandra's voice. She stood nose to nose with the Commander, her eyes wild and hands fisted at her side. Dane felt a small smile crack at his ice-bitten lips, despite the gravity of the situation. He recalled the flashes of memory from his rescue.
'"Thank the Maker."' She had whispered, as strong pairs of hands had hauled him out of the snow. A dry chuckle spilled from Dane's mouth as the memories trickled into his mind's view. The delirious grin that had stretched his cheeks upon seeing her as his rescuer, the warmth of her hand on his cheek when he was laid before the healer at camp.
"Though the Maker provides us many miracles, I did not expect your laughter to be one of them, Herald."
Dane's chuckle turned into a surprised cough as he realised he was not alone in the tent. Mother Giselle, the kindly Chantry Mother from Redcliffe, sat at his side. He grimaced, but slowly rose to an extraordinarily painful sitting position. He opened his mouth to speak, a self-deprecating retort on the tip of his tongue, only to be interrupted by Cullen furthering the shouting match outside.
"And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!"
Dane felt a blinding pang of something. Not pain, or hurt, but a strange, burning sort of anger stemming from the Commander's bitter words. Dane hauled himself to his feet, forcing all the screams of protest from his body aside.
"Hey!"
All nearby eyes whirled to hone in on the Herald's rasping shout as he approached. He didn't notice the shocked stares and Mother Giselle's whispered concern, his attention focused only on Cullen.
"If anyone was to lead the Inquisition, it would be Cassandra," Dane growled, coming to lean heavily on the planning table where everyone seemed to have gathered. A small voice reminded him that confrontation wasn't exactly in his nature, but he ignored it, boring his vision straight into the Commander.
"Please," Josephine stated quietly, stepping between the two men and trying to diffuse the sudden tension. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled."
"That can't come from nowhere, Josephine." Cullen sighed, staring down at the map and away from Dane's seething glare.
"She didn't say it could, Commander," Leliana interjected, turning to face the Herald. "Trevelyan, we must discuss where we move to from here. Haven is lost, along with many of our soldiers. As you can see, discussion of ideas for what comes next is not going so smoothly."
Dane blinked in acknowledgement of the Spymaster's words, feeling the toll of his sudden confrontation wearing on the bag of broken pieces he now called a body.
"You're right." He croaked, spying a nearby barrel and very nearly collapsing onto it. He folded his good arm over his lap and took a shaking breath. "Josephine, do you have any remaining contacts who could help us find shelter?"
The Ambassador approached Dane slowly, a worried look written all over her delicate features.
"Herald, I do apologise for our.. disturbance, but I truly think you should rest. Where to go from here can surely wait a few more hours."
'Just how bad do I look? Have I lost teeth or something?' He worried absently, stopping his hand halfway to his mouth.
"I agree with the Ambassador." Cassandra stated, coming to stand in front of Dane with a look that spelled 'do not argue' as plain as day.
He sighed and accepted the hand-up Cullen had come to offer. The Commander hefted Dane to his feet with an apologetic smile; all that was needed for their argument to be forgiven. They walked in silence back to Dane's tent, which had now come to host a new visitor.
"Herald, if I may have a moment."
[A.N] Hello everyone, sorry for the long delay. Usual thank you to all you wonderful readers, and if I could shamelessly ask for reviews. They really do motivate me to continue on with this story when I'm feeling a bit stuck, and I would truly appreciate the feedback. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. [/A.N]