Chapter 1: The Breach
Eyes. Too many eyes.
Piercingly red and vividly terrifying.
Miera recoiled into herself, shivering. She wasn't cold, yet she could feel the prickling of the darkness on her skin. The dread of the eternal abyss before her crawled up her spine. She made a gesture to hug herself only to falter at the realization that she had no arms. Her gaze dropped.
She was nothing, no one. And there was nothing, nowhere.
No ground, no sky, no distance. She was floating, yet standing. There was screeching, yet silence.
She reeled back further into emptiness with the notion to scream, hoping and willing for anything to hold onto.
And eyes. Too many eyes.
The Fade?
She ran, or at the very least willed herself to try. Anything to flee from those blood-stained eyes gleaming in the darkness – studying, surveying, watching. But running required a body, and she had none. She floated, ever-moving, ever-still.
A flash of green shattered her vision. There was a prodding against her. It wasn't a physical touch, but one that resonated with every fiber of her being. A hum. Something, or someone, was mingling their spirit against her own, a soothing lullaby of the soul. It was a feeling of magic much unlike her own – powerful yet delicate, like a calm before the storm. She sensed its quiet invitation to join and merge. She grasped and hopelessly clung herself to it. It was something, better than nothing.
A blinding light. In the distance but everchanging.
And green… oh so very green...
The slamming of a door jerked Miera awake. She thrashed in surprise only to realize she sat bound by the hands. Chains? Why was she...?
She blinked away the tears that unbeknownst to her found paths to trickle down her cheeks. She was weightless, floating so very far outside herself. Was she conscious? Unconscious? There was a pounding in her head.
"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now," a voice demanded harshly against Miera's ear.
She shrunk away from it, uncomforted by the sudden lack of understanding. At her very core, however, sat the primal urge of fear at the word kill aimed her direction.
She forced her vision to adjust to the unbearable darkness of the room.
No, prison.
A million questions and evidently no answers. When? How? Why? What could have-
A woman's face appeared before her, frighteningly beautiful, with a snarl etched across her lips. Despite the side-swept hair and gentle hazel eyes, her face remained angular, sharp, and stoic, as if sculpted by the very Creators themselves. It remained unnaturally illuminated by an eerie shade of green.
It was at that moment Miera realized everything was lit in that same troubling hue of color.
Where was that coming from? Why was–
Miera looked down. To her horror, she realized she was the source. There, upon her left hand, was an other-worldly scar. Where she expected to see the normalcy of her skin were instead vein-like emblems swirling across her palm and fingers, each glistening in a beautiful yet disastrous light. Crackling with an unknown hum of power, it practically dared to burn off her entire arm to ashes.
She wanted to scream. She could have sworn she had, but the silence ricocheting across the walls proved otherwise.
The woman spoke again, senseless words drowned out by Miera's terror at the sight before her until she heard the words Conclave and death. Her gaze finally snapped back up to the woman's face in alarm. Memories momentarily flashed before Miera's eyes – her Keeper, her clan, her journey, her mission, the Conclave. "W-what did you just say?"
The woman granted her with a scowl. "Everyone at the Conclave is dead."
Miera's stomach dropped, threatening to make her lurch her guts out right there and then at the woman's feet. It was a realization and accusation she hadn't been expecting.
"Everyone is…? H-how did...? But all those people…"
The woman kept her gaze locked on hers as if begging to catch her saying the wrong thing.
Miera took a deep breath, calming her nerves and pounding heart, and blinked away her blurred vision. She couldn't let the despair of those deaths sink in, not yet. She needed to cautiously think this through. Survive.
At a quick glance, Miera deduced the woman before her to be a warrior, evidently by the way she stood – chin held high, shoulders back, and a set of well-forged armor. Miera was bound and chained, meaning she was considered a trespasser or prisoner, either due to circumstance or race. The rather unwelcoming interrogation meant whoever these people were believed she had answers, or better yet, was responsible. The hand, however–
She clenched her jaw. She needed to make this woman see to reason, whatever the cost.
Mierra narrowed her eyes and mustered as much courage as she was able. "If you're actually implying I'm responsible for any of this–"
The woman snarled. "Explain. This."
Suddenly she gripped Miera's left arm just as the scar emitted a wave of green light that enveloped the prison. She held back a choking sob at the hot, sheathing pain that sensitively pierced every nerve in her hand.
The woman finally let go, leaving Miera a panting mess on the ground. "I–I don't know what that is, or how it got there!" she pleaded. Logic was thrown out the window at the intensity of the pain.
"You're lying!" the woman raged, arms out and ready to presumably choke the life out of Miera before the shemlen was forcefully pulled back into the shadows by a cloaked figure.
"We need her, Cassandra." A warning. Another woman by the sound of her voice. It was elegant, silky, yet deadly all at once.
So Cassandra is the warrior's name. But this other woman…
Miera gulped when the cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. With flaming-red hair, charcoal-blue eyes, and an appetite for smoky makeup, this woman was the embodiment of the phrase 'if looks could kill.' And dying was not on Miera's list of things to do that day.
"Do you remember what happened? How this all began?" she asked with a rather calculated expression. She was obviously more experienced at keeping her cards up her sleeve than the other woman Cassandra.
Miera furrowed her brow, debating whether to give them any information that would somehow be used or twisted in meaning against her. But the only leg Miera had to stand on was the unshakable knowledge of her innocence. Given the unusual circumstances, it was the only redeeming option she had.
Miera let her thoughts drift back into the crevices of her own mind. She saw them again, those eyes. Blood-red and implacable. But behind that hooded veil, blurred memories. They were distinct, unusual, yet vague.
"I remember… running." Gasping for air, a shrilling terror pumping through her veins. A screech behind her, looming closer with every step. Run, run, run. "Things were chasing me and then…" A shining light atop a hill. Hope. She climbed. She couldn't be here. She couldn't be in the Fade. No, not again. Never again. Her gaze drew up and she reached for an outplaced hand. Delicate and nurturing. A way out. Help. Salvation.
But she never saw a face.
"A woman..?" Miera finished, more as a question than she'd intended it to be, somewhat doubting her own answer.
"A woman?" the looks-can-kill shemlen repeated as she crossed her arms.
"Did I stutter?" Miera snapped back.
The woman's nostrils flared in annoyance. She was about to speak again when Cassandra interjected, noting the tension.
"It's useless. Go to the forward camp, Leliana," she urged, then turned to Miera with a challenge in her eyes. "I will take her to the rift."
The rift?
Leliana's gaze drifted back and forth between Miera and Cassandra in consideration. With a final nod, she made her way out, leaving the other two in the dank prison. It was at that moment Miera realized how awful it smelled, the stench intensifying her desire to gag.
Cassandra squatted down to remove the shackles at Miera's wrists and replaced them with a rope handed to her by one of the many mindless soldiers stationed around the prison. Cassandra's face was now inches away from her own. Miera's gaze fell to the jagged wound across the woman's cheek, still fresh and new, the blood smeared from being wiped away. There was an intimidating focus in her eyes as well, and Miera noted the slight shaking in the woman's hands. The worry of what was out there began prickling in even further.
"What did happen?" Miera managed to whisper. She wasn't quite sure whether she desired an answer.
"It…" Cassandra gave a heavy sigh, grabbing Miera's shoulders so as to help her up. "It will be easier to show you."
Cassandra led their way out of the prison and up a set of stairs at the end of a hall. Miera resentfully forced her legs to carry her forward, weary of the shemlen soldiers with tightened grips on their swords striding at her side. Another set of stairs and they were out in a broad, dimly-lit anteroom. One look at the many candles and whimpering whispers of those praying and Miera realized she walked through a Chantry building. She could feel her blood churning.
All was forgotten, however, when Cassandra pushed the Chantry doors open.
The light was blinding at first, enough to force Miera to look away. The cold mix of wind and snow bit at her tinted nose and cheeks, with silver-blonde curls drifting across her face because of it. But the terrifying rumble of something akin to thunder pulled her attention back towards the source of the sound.
Slowly, to her own horror, Miera's gaze drifted upwards endlessly, above the town, above the mountains, above the very clouds themselves, until she saw it – a gaping hole in the sky. Crackling green light emitted itself from a swarming vortex of emptiness. At its center, a formation of boulders and debris floated, indecisive of whether they wished to fall or be consumed by the abyss above them. A thread of green light channeled down from it into the midst of the valley. The origin of the link remained hidden by the assembly of mountains before them. Miera could feel the excessive aura of magic projecting from it pushing against her being, radiating like a ghostly veil around her.
It was, in one word, terrifying.
"We call it the Breach – a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, but it is the largest." Cassandra paused to glance at Miera. "All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."
Miera's eyes widened as her muscles clenched. Fear, shock, and awe swarmed within her soul, each emotion clawing for release. She gaped at it, hardly believing her own eyes. Demons? The Fade? How could anything have caused such a tear between both worlds? Why?
"An explosion can do that?" Miera questioned, her breathing quickening the more she processed the sight before her. This had bad written all over it. Run, the Breach seemed to warn her. Run and never look back.
"It seems this one did. And it will keep growing until it swallows the-"
The mark on Miera's hand flared with a sudden burst of light. She cried out at the feeling of a thousand needles ripping through her skin, bringing her to her knees. "Fenedhis!" she cursed to herself, clutching her arm to her chest while begging the pain to cease. Her head pounded from the rush of panic and she choked back a sob. Dread flooded like venom in her veins. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.
Magic. It had to be magic. It always was. Damn this.
Cassandra was at her side in seconds. "Every time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. But it's exactly what we need to stop this. You may be the key."
Miera clenched her teeth. She bit back the need to retort at the irony of a human asking her, a Dalish elf of all people, for help at a time like this. "In what way could I possibly stop all of this?"
"Your mark. It may be linked to the Breach, and it may be the only chance we have of sealing it."
Miera blinked, dumbfounded. "You're telling me you actually believe this thing in my hand is going to close that hole in the sky?!"
Cassandra nodded, obviously having much more faith than the one with the glowing green magic threatening to take her life. A shocker. "We will not truly know for ourselves until we reach the rift at its center and have your attempts to seal it."
Miera glanced between the Breach and her hand. She could already feel the tears forming in her eyes despite her efforts against it. It was too much to process at once, the impossibility of the danger looming above them ripping away at any sense of understanding. She felt trapped, the world suddenly too small, the soldiers standing too close to her, guarding any chance of escape. And it was then she began to feel it – that shadow seething within her soul. She trembled, a flash of hot heat burning through her body as her chest seemingly caved in. Not now. Please, not now. Not yet.
Closing her eyes, Miera reminded herself to breathe. In. Out. In again.
"If I do what you ask," Miera somehow willed herself to say, each word bringing a pain to her lungs while she focused on the feeling of the snow beneath her legs, "will I live through it?"
There was a flicker in Cassandra's eyes. Pity, probably. But that was sufficient of an answer for Miera.
She had considered the mortality of her own life plenty times before, but willing herself to walk quite literally towards her own demise was another matter entirely. She thought of her clan, of her people, of–
She cursed at herself for not having done better.
It seemed fitting, really, that of all people in Thedas, she'd be the one granted with even more magic that could potentially kill her.
Cassandra offered an arm, which Miera doubtfully took, and helped her to her feet. With a mask of confidence glazing over her face, the warrior turned and strode down the path of the town before them.
So this is how it ends, Miera thought to herself before following close behind.
Being informed she was the only remaining survivor of an explosion that rocked the very heavens was bad enough, but when the bridge her and Cassandra were crossing collapsed and they fell to the impending frozen lake below, Miera thought her death impended much, much closer than she initially anticipated.
When they stood, Cassandra bellowed at the creature before them – an ugly, scorched thing that proved it should have remained in the Fade for a reason. "Stay behind me!" she roared before charging forwards like the warrior she no doubt was and taking an initial swing, an attack that was unnervingly easily dodged by the demon.
The impending crash of a green flame that fell from the Breach to Miera's right threw her off-balance. Another demon's blood-curling scream vibrated down to Miera's core when she finally saw it stand from the smoke of impact. It was a grotesque creature, its skin unnaturally ripping apart at the seams and muscles protruding into view, with raging, beady eyes and claws that could undoubtedly rip her heart out in seconds.
Miera stepped back and almost tripped over her own feet in surprise. But it was too late. It saw her.
And he came for her.
Miera barely dodged its first swipe, diving towards the ground with a sense of adrenaline pulsing through her body. One glance in Cassandra's direction proved she was still caught in the battle with the first demon, leaving this one to Miera's own fate. She hoisted herself up onto her elbows and made a desperate scan of the lake for anything that would help ward the creature off until Cassandra gained control of the battle.
That was when she saw the staff leaning against crates of supplies not a few paces out of reach.
Every muscle flinched in an instinct to grab it, but Miera fought the urge and hesitated, faltering at the realization of what it meant to do so. She scoured the region for any other weapon, begging for any other option to protect herself for the time being, but the screech behind her was enough to convince her she had no choice, and time ran short. With seething anger at herself, at the demon, and at the world itself, she crawled and reached for it, grasping it within seconds in her hand. She rolled onto her back just in time to see the demon lunge for her, claws out mercilessly for an attack she knew would kill her instantly.
It was timeless luck that saved her when she reached down within herself, clinging to the fear she felt pulsating in her bones, and momentarily allowed the smallest hint of magic to escape the suppressed well within her. Lightning shot out from the jeweled tip of her staff and halted the demon in place, but it was enough for Miera to scramble to her feet and run towards Cassandra, who had just impaled the other demon in the chest, her sword gleaming green from the metal's reflection of the Breach. Their eyes met as Miera skidded past her on the ice, and Cassandra's gaze soon fell to the demon racing behind. Before Miera even had the chance to aid her comrade-in-battle, she heard the plunging of the sword, the screeching of the demon, and the thud as it fell to the ice.
Miera had only just blinked when Cassandra whipped her sword up to her chin. "Drop your weapon. Now," she ordered with a grave distrust apparent in her eyes.
Miera was gasping for air. Her hand was over her chest in the attempts to calm herself from the skirmish. She barely even reacted to Cassandra's sword, let alone glanced at it, nothing now comparing to the image of the demon bringing down its claws to tear her own life from her hands.
She grimaced at the warrior in exasperation. "What would you have had me do? Let the demon feast on me for dinner?"
Cassandra frowned, obviously not appreciative of the retort, but she took a moment to consider the words and eventually sighed in defeat. "You are right. I cannot promise you of what it is we will soon face, but I cannot protect you." She sheathed her sword and studied the wide-eyed elf before her. She gave her a grave and solemn nod. "Your life is in enough danger as it is," she concluded before turning to continue their trek towards the Breach.
Miera tightened her grip on her staff, keeping it as far away from herself as she could before falling in step behind the warrior once again.
It didn't take long for them to encounter a second round of demons, then a third, then a fourth. Cassandra thankfully took the heat of the battle each time, the demons too focused and distracted by her deafening roars and gleaming armor to notice the smaller figure lingering just outside of view. Miera cast a barrier for Cassandra and herself as often as she could, ensuring her mana never ran too low, and did her best to avoid the use of offensive magic whenever demons managed to close in on her by instead plunging the end of her staff into their skulls or swatting them with as much physical strength as she was able. Luckily for her, that usually wasn't the case. It would take a fool not to note the skill and precision with which Cassandra moved, her body an unconquerable force of nature that had no doubt seen the many provocations of battle, and such power attracted the demons to her instead.
It was when they were rounding up a steep hill, however, that Miera heard the clashing of swords and firing of weapons in the distance, much unlike the quiet stillness they had trodden through before. Cassandra's voice broke their acknowledged silence.
"You can hear them fighting up ahead!"
"Who's fighting?!"
"We shall see soon enough."
And soon enough they did. When they finally reached the top of the hill, legs aching and lungs heaving, Miera witnessed the commotion and chaos before them. Demons were spewing everywhere, with fewer and fewer remaining soldiers left alive to fight back. Only a number of trained warriors were left standing, to her observations, before her eyes fell upon the whips of arrows and the flashes of magic towards the center where an elf and a dwarf stood back-to-back. To her own horror, there was a green-lit fracture hovering in the air above them, that of which looked reminiscent to the Breach conquering the sky. She felt her hand thrumming achingly at the proximity of it as if the mark itself sought some form of release.
"That puts me two up against you, Chuckles!" the dwarf laughed, laughed to the elf despite the fighting surrounding them.
She didn't get the chance to hear the elf's response before Cassandra huffed forwards. "We need to help them!"
Immediately, Miera followed suit and hailed barriers upon barriers where they were most needed for those she could only presume to be her allies. She stood at the edge of the skirmish, warily eying the thing floating above them, as if this day couldn't get any weirder compared to seeing a massive hole in the sky.
It didn't take long for the last demon to fall, unsurprisingly by Cassandra's hand, and just as Miera processed the ending of their ruthless escapade, she felt a hand take hold of her wrist.
"Quickly, before more come through!"
She whipped around in time to see the elf she'd observed in battle yank her hand into the air, a yelp escaping her lips at his grip, and soon it became an agonizing scream at the magic blaring from her mark. She felt the fracture feeding at the essence held within it, like a never-ending thread being yanked from her palm and fingers, before the tension finally exceeded itself and climaxed. The magic snapped in place, her mark and the fracture going dormant in unison.
She snatched her arm away from the elf instantly. A fire blazed in her eyes at his unwarranted intrusion.
"What did you do?" It came out more as an accusation than she'd intended, yet the elf hardly seemed to notice.
"I did nothing. The credit is yours," he motioned to her with a relieved smile.
Miera took a moment to breathe in the detail of his presence. He was quite taller than herself, of that, there was no question, and his shoulders much broader than any elf she'd ever seen. It was a rarity in his case, that of which included the complete lack of hair. His posture was timid, shy even, which came as a surprise when her gaze flitted over his chiseled-sharp features and downcast, storm-blue eyes, those of which observed her with an uncanny intensity she couldn't comprehend. The clothing he wore was peculiar as well – simply-knit layers of cloth and a unique jawbone necklace that dangled at his chest. There was a unique aura to his presence, a certain trademark of his magic she somehow thought familiar.
Miera shifted her weight to face him, letting his words sink in at last. She opened her palm to regard the mark while doing her best to remain poised beneath his ardent stare. "You mean this."
"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that the mark would be able to seal the rifts that had opened in the Breach's wake…" A pause. "It seems I was correct."
"Meaning it could close the Breach itself," Cassandra interjected with much-needed hope as she came to stand at Miera's side.
The elf finally tore his gaze from hers to match Cassandra's, his eyes reeling in that unusual intensity for the warrior as he spoke. "Possibly." He looked back at Miera again, this time no indication of the expressively observant stare he held for her moments before. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."
The understatement of the century, so I've heard.
"And here I was thinking we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," a rugged voice remarked behind her.
Miera turned to look at the dwarf she'd noticed in battle. He strode towards her with radiating confidence, and she attempted her best not to look a bit baffled. It was the first time she'd ever actually seen a dwarf up close, and whatever expression she wore upon her face must have given it away for he shot her a grin and laughed. "Not the first time I'd be the first someone else has seen, believe me."
A blush colored Miera's cheeks at her embarrassment. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to–"
He waved his hand, the smile on his face enough indication that he truly didn't mind. "Ah, kid, I know you meant no offense." He stopped before Miera. "Varric Tethras! Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong." He winked at Cassandra standing beside her, to which the warrior responded with a disgusted noise.
Miera's lips quirked up slightly at the exchange. There was evidently some history there.
She wasn't quite sure where to place Varric amid such commotion. His shoulder-length, ginger hair was partially pulled back to reveal a kindly rounded face. He wore intricate inner clothing that did nothing to cover his (rather handsome) chest and leathered armor that otherwise protected him from the cold. Most curious, however, was the beautifully well-crafted crossbow attached to his back, a weapon so elaborate in its design it took Miera a few seconds to finally will herself to look away.
Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you with the Chantry, or…?"
The elf to her side gave a soft chuckle. "Was that a serious question?"
Miera raised a brow at him, unsure of what to make of his comment.
"Technically, I'm a prisoner… just like you," Varric sighed. He fumbled with his gloves as a distraction.
"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly, that is no longer necessary," Cassandra thought the need to explain to him. Varric shot her a knowing yet sarcastic smile.
"How many prisoners do you have, exactly?" Miera scoffed at the warrior. It was a genuine question, but it nevertheless earned a snort from the other two.
"More than she would likely be willing to admit, I'd assume," the elf joked.
Cassandra made a grumbled noise and muttered, "You three are insufferable." Miera hummed, a failed attempt to conceal her laughter. The last thing she needed was to be on the warrior's bad side, all things considered.
The elf turned back to Miera then, the smile still echoed upon his lips. "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."
Miera made the motion to question him just as Varric cut in, "He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"
Her eyes widened, realization settling in. She looked at Solas then, truly looked at him, diffident of the proper thing to say. "Your magic – I thought it seemed familiar." Something shifted in his eyes momentarily before she continued, "Before I woke up, I… believe I felt it when you helped me." She paused, at a loss for words. "Thank you," she finally managed to say, comforted to know she was not only under the presence of another of her kind but also that not everything wished to bring death to her doorstep that day.
He gave her a slight nod. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin." He turned to the warrior beside her. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage–"
Miera's gaze dropped down to the ground at her feet, a feat that did not go unnoticed by him.
"–though I find it difficult to believe any mage having such power."
Harsh, but reasonable.
Cassandra bowed her head. "Understood." She glanced at all three of them for a moment, a determined expression encompassing her face. "We must make our way to the forward camp, quickly."
There was a moment of silent agreement between the group, and the air around them immediately became that of anticipation for the possibility of an incoming battle. With that, the four of them traveled on.
It didn't take long for them to come across yet another few sets of demons before reaching the camp. Miera had to remind herself constantly not to gawk at the Breach brewing above them in the sky, not quite believing they were walking towards it rather than away. Varric gave her several comforting glances and pats on the shoulder to encourage her, which she was grateful for, but it did little to settle the weight growing in her stomach.
At its gates, she sealed another rift to which Solas and Varric applauded her for before stepping into the camp, the overwhelming sensation of fear and anxiety practically dripping from the air around them from those who were stationed there.
Cassandra led the group, and soon, they spotted Leliana in a bitter discussion with a man in Chantry robes ahead.
The moment the man's eyes met Miera's, he practically snarled. "Ah… here they come," he drawled. She fought the urge to prove how true those fanciful tales of savage Dalish elves could be at the once-over he gave her. She gripped her staff tightly in her hand, a stiff expression crossing her face in restraint.
It took only moments before Leliana, Cassandra, and the Chantry-man got into a heated debate Miera had no interest being a part of. It seemed inappropriately hilarious to her, truly, that despite the threats of demons and monsters and creatures spewing about them, killing innocents among the masses, the shemlen Chantry-man believed the most critical course of action was retreating and allowing a new Divine to determine their proceedings. As if they were the ones who had the right to make everyone's decisions time and time again.
When she finally had enough, Miera cut in, every syllable laced with venom supported by centuries-worth of oppression. "Isn't the Breach, you know, the hole in the sky the more pressing issue compared to your ridiculous antics? People are dying out there so those like you can survive yet you have the nerve to dictate those of us who are actually trying to help."
"You brought this upon us in the first place!" he growled.
Miera began the motion to lunge forward, ready to assault the bloody man where he very well stood, but a calculated hand on her arm stopped her. She whipped around, fuming at whoever caused her to pause and faltering when she realized it had been Solas. She challenged his demanding gaze, one of which he evidently had no issue maintaining. However, his expression was enough to eventually convince Miera the Chantry-man wasn't worth it. Reluctantly, she submitted to Solas' calming gesture and allowed Cassandra to steer control of the conversation instead.
"We can stop this before it's too late, Chancellor," Cassandra told him.
"How? You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all of your soldiers." He took a deep breath, apparently still riled up from his exchange with Miera. "Abandon this now before more lives are lost," he pleaded.
Just then, the Breach rumbled in its wake as the mark on Miera's hand flared. She clenched her jaw, suppressing the cry that was threatening to escape her lips at the pain. Solas was at her side in an instant. He placed his hand over her own and muttered a string of words underneath his breath. No matter how it was he knew how to suppress the magic tapped within her hand, Miera was grateful, for the pain dissipated as soon as it had come. Miera gave him a breathless 'thank you' to which he simply nodded, his eyes still fixed on the mark, presumably ensuring it remained calm.
All eyes were on her, she realized, when she looked up from her hand.
With a heightened sense of motivation, Cassandra spoke to them all, offering the option to charge with their remaining soldiers while Leliana countered using them as a distraction to trek the mountain. Based on their indecision, Cassandra abruptly turned to Miera.
"How do you believe we should proceed?"
Miera's brow raised in surprise. "Now you're asking me what I think?"
"You have the mark," Solas stated.
"And you are the one we must keep alive," Cassandra continued. She pinched the bridge of her nose with the tips of her fingers. "And since we apparently can't seem to agree on our own…"
Miera considered it. Despite the fear clenching at her bones, she knew they needed to find the quickest way up to the Breach before the mark killed her where she stood. Enough as it was that she was the only one who could apparently seal the rift, though she very well doubted it, she needed to best use the time she had left if it meant saving… the world, she supposed. She couldn't find it within her to believe it quite yet, despite the threats before them having felt very, very real.
She lifted her chin up at Cassandra in a form of confidence. "I say we charge. The sooner we get up to the Breach, the better. I may not survive whatever trial I face at the rift, but whatever happens, it should happen now. We should ensure we use our time wisely."
Cassandra rewarded Miera with a smile of approval and looked to the redhead on her right, "Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley to the Breach. Everyone. We'll need all the support we can get."
As the group strode off, the Chancellor spoke, an eerie warning that lingered over their heads.
"On your head be the consequences, Seeker."
Their trek up the mountain had them all shivering and clutching at their clothes. Snowflakes hailed down on them now, each of their steps growing heavier in exhaustion. Miera had to consistently prevent herself from thinking about where it was they were going or what it was they were doing. The longer her mind followed that path, the more her heart began to race, and the sooner her panic rose like bile in her throat. She swallowed down the sob that sought release several times, and it was Varric who noticed her unease, drifting the group's conversation away from the scathing hole in the sky above them and onto more trivial matters… like his novels, of which Miera had never admittedly heard of, and nugs.
"Have you ever seen those things? Leliana loves them, contrary to what she'll have you believe."
Miera couldn't help the grin that made its way across her face in surprise, almost doubting the dwarf. She was never one to hold a conversation so quickly after meeting someone, let alone speaking much altogether, but the anxiety of the threat before them had her expectations of the world completely flipped, and it took every ounce of effort within her not to drown amidst the pressure.
She took a moment to dig her staff into the snow just shy of her knees to propel her forwards before replying, "Really. The I-could-kill-someone-by-murderously-looking-into-their-soul Leliana likes nugs."
"She doesn't like them, kid. She loves them," he corrected her. "The woman has a knack for keeping her cards hidden, absolutely, but she wears her heart on her sleeve for those things. Wouldn't have believed it myself if she hadn't threatened me when I asked her about it. She promised me she'd–"
He stopped abruptly, pursing his lips. Miera gave him a side-long look in amusement as she dug her staff into the snow again. "You were saying?"
He cleared his throat. "Not important."
Miera was having none of it.
"You mean to tell me, Varric, that a rogue storyteller like yourself is actually intimidated by a woman's love for nugs? Never would have pegged you for someone who backs down from a good story."
This brought a snort from Cassandra and a delighted shake of the head from Solas, both of whom struggled treading up the path as well.
Varric gave Miera a pat on the arm with a beaming smile. "I like you, kid. Keep it up."
Finally, after much exercise and fruition, they reached the top of the mountain's impasse, and they found themselves within a gated-off camp at the edge of the front-line. The stillness of it caught them off-guard, but they soon realized most, if not all of the soldiers that had been stationed there had already been killed or wounded in the aftermath. Miera clamped a hand over her mouth at the multitude of dead bodies that had been gathered and wrapped, presumably for their loved ones. There was a silence shared within the group in sorrow despite the turmoil storming outside.
All these people and she was the one to survive. The guilt weighed heavily upon her chest and it took everything in her power not to crumble at the devastation of it, witnessing it all in person. There were so many dead. Each story of their lives lay shattered in fragments before her very eyes. She clenched her fist, absentmindedly drawing blood from her nails digging into her palm, and pushed onwards to join the others and re-stash some of their supplies in preparation for what was to come.
The gates suddenly slammed opened and a few soldiers limped their way inside, but the group caught a glimpse of another rift waiting just past them.
There was no need to yell a command. Everybody moved in coordination as they ran towards it and leapt off the ledge of the camp, immediately hailing their weapons against the demons that awaited. Miera remained at the rear with Varric and Solas while Cassandra charged to the forefront. The whip of arrows, the crackling of ice, and the swinging of a sword were now a harmonious melody for the group.
Miera cast a barrier for the warrior while she scavenged the area to find the best position to close the rift. It was then she spotted a large boulder on her right, away from where the battle was heaviest but close enough she could reach her arm out to seal the fracture safely.
She dove off to the side, unaware of the terror demon at the other side of the rift who had been distracted by her flash of movement. It illuminated the ground beneath it and used it as a portal to materialize itself where she stood. The motion threw her off her feet and knocked the wind out of her lungs when she plunged into the freezing snow. The demon screeched above her relentlessly while emitting a force of the Fade that shredded and weakened her bones. Miera shut her eyes and covered her ears in instinct, her staff forgotten as the sound of the demon's scream pounded her eardrums and nearly caused them to bleed.
There was deafening crack, the demon's battle-cry cut short, and pellets of ice rained over Miera.
She looked up, the demon now gone, surprised to see Solas had already positioned himself in front of her defensively. "I will cover you while you seal the rift, go!"
Without hesitation, she scrambled to her feet and summoned them both a desperate barrier before sprinting towards the boulder, her vision now miraculously focused from the adrenaline surging through her. She nearly jumped the boulder when she reached it, but the speed with which she moved combined with the sleet of snow covering the rock unexpectedly causing her to slide off at first. She cursed at herself before attempting to climb it again and ground her teeth in the effort to pull herself up to stand at the ready. Projecting the will of her being as much she could, she shut her eyes in mental preparation and threw her hand into the air.
The effort was just as unpleasant as before, if not more so, and the tension in her hand increased until it reached its peak. The snap of tension timed perfectly as the rift finally sealed itself shut, the wave of its force shocking the demons that remained into a momentary sleep. Cassandra and Varric quickly took advantage of it to finish them off with their weapons before they had the chance to wake again.
Miera took a calming breath when the fight finally came to a stop and leaped off the boulder. She shakily picked up the staff she'd left behind from when the demon attacked, her body still trembling and her breathing quickened from the rush of combat. She wondered whether that would ever cease considering they had already fought countless demons on their way to the temple.
"Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this."
Miera turned at the sound of Solas' voice as he strode to stand beside her. The gentle fall of the snowflakes around them furthered the sense of peace after battle. He tilted his head to observe her with that same intensity in his eyes as before. Whether it was only because of his curiosity of the mark or his approval of her use of it, she couldn't tell.
"Thanks for covering me," she told him, slightly breathless.
He was about to respond when Varric cut in, "Let's hope this works on the big one."
She tore her gaze from Solas to look at the dwarf and give him a saddened smile. You and me both… assuming I don't die in the process, that is. Miera almost laughed nervously at her own dry sense of humor despite her dreary mood.
"Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done," an unknown voice commented to the warrior. Miera whirled around in the direction of its source. She couldn't help but widen her eyes at the man before her. Tall, intimidating, and rather handsome himself, he was the epitome of a shemlen description of a prince. With swept-back, sun-kissed hair, a defined jawline, and golden eyes, including the practically royal armor he wore, it wouldn't surprise Miera if he actually was.
"Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner's doing," Cassandra told him.
Oh, shit. Is he going to...?
The Commander looked at Miera, confirming her suspicion, and her breath hitched. Definitely handsome, yep.
"Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of good people getting you here."
The spell broke at his mention of the lives lost, as if she were the one needing any more reminding of it, given the circumstances.
"You're not the only one hoping that," she countered.
The Commander gave her a curt nod, eyeing the staff within her hand momentarily before turning back to Cassandra, saying, "The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there."
"We best move quickly then. Give us time, Commander," Cassandra ordered. It caused Miera to wonder who exactly was in charge of overseeing the operation with so many titles and orders being thrown about. Whoever these people were, they seemed to be important enough to be running such a distressing event.
She supposed it truly didn't matter when it came to stopping the end of the world.
"Maker watch over you – for all our sakes," the Commander told them all, his gaze meeting Miera's again for the briefest of moments before heading back to the camp, aiding one of the injured soldiers who had been wounded during the battle on his way.
A sense of understanding passed through the group as they pushed forwards for one last stand – the understanding that in some way or another, this was both the end and the beginning.
They reached a massive ledge that led directly to the entrance of the temple, and they each leaped off one by one, grunting at the impact.
The shock and horror on their faces at the sight before them was inevitable.
Scorched corpses of those who had had their fates sealed by the explosion surrounded them. Each body remained frozen in time, terror and fear palpable on their bloodied faces. Some held their arms above their heads in an instinct for cover while others stood naturally, unaware that their lives had already been stolen from them. They encompassed everything that had been lost in the chaos – devastation, despair, injustice. The silence hovering over the group was tense, where even the drop of a feather would have thundered in their ears.
It was the body of a man clutching his child that broke Miera.
She fell to her knees before their huddled forms, a shaky hand covering her lips and tears trickling down her cheeks in seconds. A flash of heat seared through her body in panic at the cost of the Breach, of the task that awaited her in the name of the lives that had been lost. Her body had suddenly become too much – too much of a cage, too much of a flaw, too much of her own. The breathing in her lungs was shallow, and her hyperventilation was inescapable with the knowledge that they had been alive only moments before, that they had only hoped to bring peace in a time of war, that the frame in the man's arms was a child…
It should have been her. It should have been her. It should have been–
There were muffled voices, muted sounds Miera couldn't understand at first. She was dizzy, her mind no longer her own, the world too small. She clutched her chest, her sorrow and fear and guilt so profound she could barely remind herself where she was. She almost wished the guilt would just press a bit further, exceed the point of no return and break her heart entirely, break it until she felt nothing at all.
"Miera, listen to my voice. Focus on my words."
But the thought couldn't leave her head. It echoed infinitely like a chamber within her mind.
It should have been her. It should have been her.
"Feel the lungs within your chest, the ground beneath your feet. Allow yourself to breathe."
How could she? How could she possibly allow it if they never got the chance to again? What gave her the right to have stolen these lives from them, to continue living now while they remained as forgotten corpses in the rubble, disposed of like they were nothing? That shadow was seething in her again, and it crept up, within, and without until it seemed to consume her entirely.
But she felt it then, the mingling of a spirit again. Soothing, soft, and gentle, like before. It reached out to her, body and soul, a melody of calm. And she felt it all, much too soon – the burning in her lungs, the fire in her soul, too hot, too hot, too hot–
She gasped for air, the first breath of hope. Refreshing. Calm. Real. She was suddenly aware of the snow at her legs, the shivering cold, the whip of the chilling air.
It should have been her.
But it wasn't.
"You are doing well. Breathe with me, feel the rhythm of my magic."
And the rhythm… she could sense it now, yes. Even and raw, consistent, tangible. She felt it seep through her skin, her muscles, her bones, until it filled her completely. In. Out. In again.
Her body was no longer a cage. It had become a shelter.
The panic dissipated, the magic brushing sweetly against her skin like the lapping of the ocean shore, and hesitantly, she opened her eyes.
She was tightly clenching her body as she sat on the ground, her fingers numb from the grip, her clothes drenched from the snow. Her breathing remained heavy and strenuous as she recovered, but the shadow that had lingered over her body only seconds before had crept back into the abyss, almost forgotten. Solas was knelt before her, his hands on his knees and his gaze locked on hers. His is expression was heavy-lit with a certain sense of sorrow, perhaps even understanding.
"Is she–"
Solas lifted an arm without even glancing away, cutting off the warrior's motion to speak. Miera kept her gaze intertwined with his, absorbing the deep blue hidden beneath them that calmed the deepest storms within her chest before looking above him, only to falter when she saw Cassandra and Varric standing with that same expression of sympathy as Solas held before.
Miera's breath caught in her throat at the realization of what had happened, and that they had all been there to see it. How she wished the ground could swallow her up now. Heat flooded her cheeks as the embarrassment sunk in.
As if reading her thoughts, Solas reassured her, "What you feel is justified, do not doubt it. You are well, and that is all that matters."
She stared at the ground and attempted to let the words bring an essence of truth on its own, but she couldn't find the strength within her to do so. With a sharp, steadying breath, she forced herself to look at Solas again, even while the warmth on her cheeks and ears endured.
"I didn't mean to… to worry you all of you, I'm s–"
"Do not apologize," Solas interrupted her, his expression set rigid as if solid stone. "It is a rare occurrence to find ourselves amongst such demanding circumstances. What you have been burdened with is as uncommon as unearthing a Breach in the sky. We will not proceed until you find the strength within you to do so."
Miera fumbled with her fingers, her heart hammering in her chest at his words. Although she knew she had no option to flee the task ahead of her, it was a comfort to know her struggle did not fall on deaf ears. But she knew they were counting on her to do her part. They had fought and killed their way to reach the temple, and they could not stop now, not because of her, and certainly not because of her doubt.
Avoiding their gazes regardless of her newly added encouragement, Miera nodded her head and stood. Her body was still weak, and her mind still wavered, but in her heart, she knew she could not fail them now. She could not fail the families that remained in this world. Their fates would not reach the same end, not while her heart prevailed.
With an unsteady intake of breath, Miera placed one step in front of the other, walking past the corpses of the men and women clutching their children, of the terrorized templars who had died for their cause, of the hopeful mages who had died for their freedom, until she stepped within the temple, ready to face what was to come.
The rift at the Breach's center was massive, of that there was no doubt.
As if on cue, Varric commented on it himself, saying, "The Breach is a long way up."
The mark on her hand was coated in a shimmering light now, humming consistently at its proximity to the Breach. Miera had to practically crane her neck back entirely to see the empty abyss waiting above them. She couldn't do anything to suppress the gulp at witnessing its size firsthand. The rift at its base was large enough as it was, but seeing how far the Breach expanded was enough to make anyone weary of being in its presence. And yet, there they stood.
"You're here! Thank the Maker."
Miera turned just in time to see Leliana approach them out of breath, presumably from the expedition her and her scouts must have taken through the mountain to reach them. Despite the seriousness in Leliana's tone, however, Miera couldn't stop thinking about the nugs Varric had mentioned. She pursed her lips to keep herself from smiling lest she get caught in the act.
"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple," Cassandra ordered. With a solemn nod, the redhead led the group around the outer ledges, all her men with bows and arrows in hand.
Cassandra took that moment to approach Miera as she gaped at the fracture before them. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"
She eyed the warrior with a questioning look. "Do you really believe anyone would be?"
To her surprise, the outer corners of the warrior's lips lifted at her sarcastic humor. "No, I suppose not."
Miera glanced back at the rift in a thoughtful manner, absentmindedly leaning on her staff. "I'll do my best… but how am I supposed to get up to that thing, exactly?"
As if unwilling to accept her doubt, Solas interjected, "No. This rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach."
"Then let's find a way down," Cassandra said. She took a quick scan of the area, looking for some semblance of a path, and eventually began leading the group off to their right.
At this point, Miera's heartbeat was pounding against her head as much as it was her chest. She ignored it as best she could, however, knowing she had to do this, whatever the consequences. One life for the hope of her world's survival? Such a sacrifice was offered literally once in a lifetime.
Miera shook her head at her own pun.
The presence of a vigorously red form of stone protruding off the wall on to their right as they made their way down to the temple stopped Miera in her tracks. While the rest of her comrades went ahead, not having noticed her hesitancy, she approached it, basking in the rhythm that seemed to seep off it, nurturing the flame and fear that burnt within her. It was an unusual hum, one she'd never heard before, and one she'd never mind hearing consistently again. It called out to her specifically, it seemed, as if it wanted her, and only her, to be a part of it, to become it, to be one with it. The red in her vision grew larger, deeper, stronger, until–
A grip on her elbow snapped Miera out of whatever haze she hadn't realized she'd been in.
"Woah, there, kid. Back up. Last thing we need is that shit making you go crazy right now," Varric warned her, pulling her back a safe distance.
Miera pressed her fingers to her forehead, dizzy. "What was that just now?"
"Red lyrium. That stuff is bad. I'd stay away from it, if I were you. Makes you do all sorts of weird stuff," he explained. She didn't even have the chance to blink before he pulled out his crossbow and threw an explosive arrow at it, the remnants of it shattering around them. The essence of the lyrium turned to smoke as it drifted into the air.
"Well… that's certainly new," she told him as she watched the last remnants of the lyrium's dust disappear. It was then she realized she hadn't yet complimented his unique weapon when he strapped it on his back again. "By the way, nice crossbow," she added. It really was the sort of thing of dreams.
He eyed the weapon and chuckled. "Ah… isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together."
She grinned at him in surprise. "You named your crossbow Bianca?" she asked.
"Of course!" he replied as if it were something anybody always did. "And she'll be great company in the future, believe me." With a wink, he turned to Cassandra, who had just walked up to them once she'd realized they had been halted by their interaction. "Seeker, you know that stuff was red lyrium. Any idea what it was doing here, exactly?" he asked her.
"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple. Corrupted it, perhaps," Solas hypothesized, observing the shards at the group's feet from Varric's anger-induced, I-hate-this-shit explosion.
The rogue shook his head. "Whatever it is, don't touch it." He coughed, making a sly indication at Miera's first experience with it. She rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn't suppress the smile that made its way across her face at his humor. She had a feeling she'd be getting along with Varric quite often, presuming they survived the Breach.
"Now is the hour of our victory," a voice boomed throughout the temple. Miera flinched at the menace held within the sound. "Bring forth the sacrifice."
Miera whirled around to the source of the sound, realizing it had come from the very rift itself. "What… was that?"
"At a guess: the person who created the Breach."
She snapped her gaze to Solas with a baffled expression. Between the chaos and the fighting, Miera hadn't even considered the idea of someone deliberately creating the very Breach itself, her mind too busy to put the pieces that lay so obviously before her together at all.
"Someone help me!" another voice rang across the temple, this time that of a woman.
"That is Divine Justinia's voice!" Cassandra cried, sprinting forwards. Without hesitation, the rest of the group followed, wading through the path of debris until they jumped off a ledge that led them to stand directly beneath the Breach at the temple's center.
"Someone help me!" the Divine's voice thundered about them once again.
Miera's hand was blaring now in that intoxicating hue of green. The rhythm of its magic vibrated so strongly it made her arm numb, the pain ceasing to be as if the mark itself begged for some form of release.
"What's going on here?"
Miera's looked to the rift in shock. Had that been…?
"That was your voice!" Cassandra exclaimed. "Most Holy called out to you, but…"
The rift concocted and suddenly illuminated to reveal a vision before them. On one side, a shadow cloaked in madness and power, the evil seeping off it in waves. On the other, the Divine lifted in the air by an uneasily convoluted form of magic. At its center, Miera herself, running towards both figures with a concerned assertion of determination at the event transpiring before her.
"What's going on here?" her vision-form asked.
"Run while you can! Warn them!" Justinia yelled to her.
The shadow turned to the Miera present in the vision. "Slay the elf!" he commanded.
A prickling unease crept its way into her stomach. Miera didn't remember any of this. Why?
"You were there! Who attacked?! And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" Cassandra fumbled to ask, clamoring for any form of answer.
"I don't remember!" Miera told her, truly just as desperate for those answers herself.
Solas was the one to speak. "Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place." He turned to them both, explaining, "The rift is not sealed, but it is closed, albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely." His face darkened. "However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side," he warned.
"That means demons. Stand ready!" she ordered the men that had been stationed around the temple.
The sound of people running to their positions drummed around them. The many soldiers surrounding the rift unsheathed their swords, and the marksmen atop the ledge drew their arrows immediately. Cassandra, Varric, and Solas came to stand at her side in a preparatory stance, a flame glowing in their eyes and a rage burning in their hearts. All too soon, everyone was prepared, and the air around them dissolved into an eerie silence. All eyes turned to Miera to await her signal.
She lifted her head so she could take one moment to see the rift above them. In all her life, she never imagined such a spectacular view possible. It was colossal, menacing, yet strangely beautiful in its own disastrous way. How something could be so raw with power and allure yet cause such chaos, she could not say. And now it was up to her to ensure it would no longer rip and tear down at the lives that had yet to be saved.
Time moved slowly as she stepped forwards, feeling her skin itching and burning from everyone's stare. She would not fail them. Never again.
All too soon, her world had fallen apart. All too soon, she had been forced to face the end.
And all too soon, she took a deep breath… and plunged.
The magic of the rift linked with that in her arm, unbearably hot and brimming with untapped potential. She shut her eyes and clenched every muscle in her body. The pain began to flow, bittersweetly and all-consuming, from her palm, to her arm, to her shoulders, to her lungs and heart and soul.
And it snapped.
A wave of force propelled everyone, including Miera, nearest the rift into the air, causing them all to crash at the furthest reaches of the temple's edges. A series of crackling green lights emitted from the fracture and struck at different portions of the temple at once, the combined force of it shaking the ground beneath them.
There was a roar. Miera stood in time, despite the dizziness from impact, to see a demon, ten times larger than any she'd ever seen before, materialize before them. It was grotesque and monstrous; it stood on its two massive haunches, with six beady eyes that glared with a diligent desire to kill, massive scales that streamed in patterns across his body, and stark horns that spiked from his head, shoulders, and arms in a brutish and deadly manner. It heaved back, looking up at the Breach above him in sheer glee, and laughed.
As if answering the demon's call, the shriek of a multitude of entities echoed around the chamber.
Miera warily looked around her. The demons were everywhere.
With a massive series of shrilling cries, all at once, the battle began.
The demons charged for their closest targets. Miera was the first to throw a barrier for the group, the four of them standing back-to-back once they all managed to stand in anticipation for the first round of demons that would come for them. Unluckily for them, however, it happened to be the only one Miera had no idea how they'd manage to take down on their own.
The massive demon launched a whip of lightning at them that shattered the barrier she had created for them in pieces, the defense's remains scattered about them.
Cassandra was the first to issue a command, her voice strong and her words laced with experience. "Solas, remain at the rear and shelter me while I distract the demon and bring the fight to our soldiers. Varric, stay at his side and keep the remaining demons from closing in on us. If we are surrounded, we will lose the advantage." The group split apart just as the demon lifted its whip again and struck it to the ground where only moments before they stood. Cassandra ordered again, her words ringing above them despite the sounds of battle echoing around them, "Miera, strip the demons of their defenses. Use your mark to seal the rift while we hold the battle. Use whatever chances you have to aid Solas and grant us with your barriers. Are we understood?"
Cassandra didn't even wait for an answer before charging forwards with a battle-cry, immediately drawing the attention of the demon that had only just attacked them. Like clockwork, the group moved, Varric and Solas running to the outer edges of the battleground to linger out of sight, and Miera sprinting towards the center where she could reach the rift at its closest.
A smaller demon just out of reach on her way spotted her and swatted with its arm, barely missing digging its claws into her skin. She used her momentum to throw herself on the ground, sliding on her rear to slide just past it and sticking her staff out to trip it before willing herself to stand and run on, hoping, at the very least, that another soldier would distract the demon in time for her to do her part.
She avoided and dodged several other demons on her way before she got close enough she believed the rift would listen to the mark's call. With a heaving breath, she threw her hand up into the air and re-linked the magic pulsing within her palm with the rift.
The sheer force the power of the rift challenged her with at first almost caused her to black out immediately. She gasped for breath, eyes shut, when she regained the will of her mind, forcing every ounce of her being to contradict what the rift was begging and teasing her to do – give in.
Just then, she felt a blanket of desperateness sooth over her skin and body. Magic. She blinked, confusedly drawing her gaze up, and bit back the instinct to yelp when she saw a demon standing only inches from her face, fangs out and arms over his head in a preparatory stance to attack her – frozen.
She didn't have to look to know who it had been.
With staff in hand, Miera used her other arm to smash the demonic sculpture of ice. With a crack, it shattered, its remains scattering down to the ground. This was done several times, a silent, mental agreement made between her and Solas on the battlefield on how to interact with the demons that got to close in with her. But when one of the demons managed to do so, unfrozen and raging, causing her to impale the demon in the chest with her staff with as much strength she could muster, she knew something had gone wrong.
Suddenly, the mark and the rift flared impossibly brighter. Both the ground and the Breach above them shook, and the weight of the power echoed around them, knocking almost everyone on the battleground off their feet, including Miera.
The pain boiled on her skin exceedingly hotter now.
She took a moment to glance at Cassandra despite her own vision blurring from the ache. She witnessed the warrior fighting mercilessly against the massive demon, her bravery never wavering for a second. The demon flung its whip at her, barely missing her as she dodged just out of its reach. Cassandra stood regardless, panting, and plowed into the demon with her sword and shield again, as faithful in her skill and song of battle as ever. Blood lay splattered across her armor, and whether that was that of the demon's or her own, Miera could not tell. But the demon whipped a string of its lightning again, faster this time, quick enough she didn't see it coming, and it struck her right across the chest. The warrior fell.
"CASSANDRA!" Miera screamed, panic gripping at her shoulders.
But the pain of the mark was even stronger now, and it ruthlessly brought Miera to her knees.
Come on, come on… hold on just a little bit longer, Cassandra. Just a little bit longer, please.
Miera ground her teeth and forced her eyes to stay open, for the darkness of the rift's power crept all too quickly around her, and she willed herself to look again. Varric stood at the other edge of the clearing. He catapulted backward to escape from a group of demons that had been closing in on him. The agonizing pain grew larger by the second in Miera's hand, but she didn't care. She needed to know he would be okay. She needed to know he would live. But the demons were relentless, and despite his efforts to keep them at bay with a dexterity for traps and arrows, they had him surrounded. And they pounced.
"NO!" she screamed.
No, not him. Please. Not him too.
Just when Miera thought the pain could no longer grow, it multiplied two, three, ten times as much. She trembled from the sheer power drifting through her, tearing and reigniting the very nature of herself and the Veil in unison. It broke every part of her she never even knew existed.
She wanted to scream, but the pain had paralyzed her completely.
Solas. Solas can help them. Where is he?
But Miera could no longer see. She didn't know if she still lived, for her hearing and senses had dimmed completely. She clawed and struggled and fought her way up, but the power of the rift suppressed and countered her own strength and it pushed her down, down, down–
But still, Miera prevailed.
She kept the mark held high and proudly in the air. For them. For the man who had clutched his own child until the end. For the soldiers who had died for a greater cause. For the families she had yet to save.
The shadow lingered around her now. It was licking her, tasting her, within and without, taunting and dallying patiently for her to give up, give in. It dared her to let go. She wanted to let go. But she couldn't. Even if she died, she couldn't. She wouldn't.
And still, Miera prevailed.
She did it for them. For herself. For the world.
She kept prevailing until she could no longer breathe, until she could no longer feel, until she could no longer see the light within her. She kept the mark high up in the air until the darkness opened beneath her feet, swallowed her spirit, and she faded into the abyss.
Author's Note
First chapter finished! :D I have this canon that Solas knows how to help someone cope with panic attacks or has even had them himself given the codex line "Fen'Harel spent centuries in a far corner of the earth, giggling madly and hugging himself in glee" when he locks the Evanuris away. To help someone suffering through one, as best I understand it, you have to remain very calm, give them as much time and space as they need, introduce no sudden outbreaks or sudden sounds (hence him cutting off Cassandra), speak to them in short sentences, encourage/applaud them as they recover, and ask them to focus on their different senses to reign them back in (I had to do some research for this – if I'm wrong in any way, please don't hesitate to correct me. I mean no offense if I get this wrong, and I want to respect the people who suffer through these experiences as best I can). With empathy for knowing what someone else is going through on top of needing the Inquisitor to seal the Breach, I'd bet Solas would do his best to ensure they find the strength to get back up again. Cause literally the whole world dies if they don't lol.