Chapter seven

Fayne tossed and turned fitfully in her sleep, forms of dying soldiers and wounded servants filled her mind. She wanted to escape this place, but she knew there was no where to go, that she had to let the dream take its course. It was always like this with her prophetic visions, she just wished she could make out the family crest of the fallen men, maybe then she could help prevent the impending suffering.

As her floating body drifted towards a man in the fade, she bent down to look at his shield, she almost could recognize it. It seemed the closer she got to the body, the hazier her vision became, as if a thick fog had covered the surroundings.

Suddenly her mind went blank and she sat up shakily in her bed. Sweet had covered her brow and she could still smell the scent of death in the air. "Another visions", she sighed as she thumped her body back down on her bed. Her frustration started to mount as she realized how close she had come to understanding the family crest of the dead man. Quickly she threw the covers off of her soaked body and flung them with wild abandon across the room.

"Why show me theses things huh? Why make it so that I can see suffering but do nothing to stop it!" Fayne yelled to the ceiling as she vented her anger to an unknown force. She always hated the visions, having the burden of knowing things before others. As a small child she would run to her mother crying, trying to warn her that something bad was going to happen to someone she had dreamt about. On the third occasion her going to her mother to be consoled, her mother had smacked her and told Fayne to keep her mouth shut.

Fayne could vividly remember her mother's words that day, "Stop making things up child, you are NOT seeing the future, you ARE simply being a spoiled brat trying to gain her mother's attention!" until that time Fayne had never seen her mother angry, never had the woman even laid a hand on any servant or child.

They were not stories, and she knew her mother understood that as well. All the things Fayne had warned her mother about had happened; Nan broke her foot, a couple was found dead after being robbed and the list continued. Her little mind could not understand why her mother had called her a liar when events happened as she said they would. Very rarely was she granted with clear and precise visions but when she told her mother about them, the woman had scorned her and punished her. So Fayne stopped telling her mother and tried to stop the dreams.

However the more she fought them, the more they came in confusing swirls of images and feelings. For ten years she would wake up screaming in the middle of the night after one of her dreams, and then have to blame it on nightmares. She kept her mouth shut. Though after a while the servants got used to her awakening in the night and the family went on with their lives. Only Fergus remained concerned for her welfare throughout her years, and she hated the fact that she had to lie to her closet confidant.

Even when she saw the death of Sir Walter as he fell off his horse, she kept her mouth shut. She didn't stop thieves she knew would rob her friends, nor protect a servant from up coming punishment; she just kept her mouth shut. It hurt her to see pain she could have prevented, but as she got older and the dreams more frequent her mother started to keep Fayne in constant supervision. Tea with other noble ladies became a way for her mother to make sure Fayne could not do something foolish that would display her abilities, or her "lies" as her mother would call them.

When Nina became her personal maid, and found her in a terrified state after one of her dreams, the elf knew what had happened. Fayne never questioned the elf as to how she knew she had vision, but rather embraced her as an ally against the darkness. After each dream she would sit with Nina and talk about it with her, sometimes they even figured out how to prevent the events from happening without alerting the world. This camaraderie seemed to make her visions less frightful, she could travel with a conscious purpose in her fade like reality instead of being a helpless bystander.

Of course as a young adult Fayne was able to understand why her mother scorned her as a child. Such abilities were rare, as rear as Andrastate and If the Chantry found out they might have sent her to the mages tower, even though all she could do was catch glimpses of the future. Yes, with a new understanding of the world she lived in and its politics she could understand the fear of a mother who could loose her child to a distant tower.

She sighed again and dug her head further into her palms. She wanted the smell to be gone, the stench of blood overwhelmed her senses. Fayne bolted up quickly as she realized that the smell was not her imagination, that it was real. So too was the muffled yelling that happened outside her door. With the ease of a trained warrior, she donned her armour and grabbed her two Cousland inscribed daggers. The thin blade with her crest caught the moonlight that came in from her window. Quietly she went to the door, opening it just a crack.

In front of her sat her bloodied hound, Zoltar. His ears were back and his teeth were exposed, but other than that he was silent. She walked fully out of the room avoiding a dead man at her feet and looked around. Her new room was at the end of a forgotten passage, so most likely who ever had attacked did not think the area important. She bent down and examined the shield of the dead warrior, moving his limp arm away. Shock and anger bubbled in her stomach as she beheld the sight. She stood up quickly and spat at the man's face.

"Howe, you treacherous basterd!" her hissed curse caused Zoltar to back away from her and let out a pitiful whine. "Come on Tar lets go get the family."

Her breathing became gasps as she bounded up the stone stairs two at a time. So far she had encountered no resistance, but that meant Howe's men were occupied somewhere else. Her heart felt chilled and her stomach filled her throat at the thought of her family being tortured by the men. Fayne pushed her body mercilessly towards her family's rooms.

Please let them be okay. Please let them be okay. Became her mantra as she pulled open the master door to the Cousland estate. Her mind went into overdrive as she saw the scene before her. Dead men lettered the floor along with the body of a woman and a small child. An older woman sat rocking back and forth with the child's head in her hands.

Fayne stepped back and let out a breath. This can't be happening, this is wrong…it can't be my family. Her thoughts became a garbled mess of hate and sorrow as she watched her mother hold her dead nephew's face. As she stared dazed at the scene, an arrow pierced her shoulder blade sending searing pain to her core. It brought her from her shocked state and with it came the red sea of hatred. She whipped around and rushed the lone soldier who was trying to reload his bow. He was not quick enough and he let out a small scream as she plugged her daggers into his stomach.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN LET US GRIEVE!!" She screamed at the man as spittle flew from her mouth. She twisted the blade and pulled it out, only to stab the man again.

"FUCK YOU AND FUCKING HOUSE." She stabbed him again and again until there were innards spilling across the wooden floor, befouling the once beautiful marble with the obscene.

A hand grabbed her arm and gently twisted Fayne towards them. Her mothers grey eyes held sorrow and determination. "Do not loose yourself, we must find your father"

Fayne wanted to slap her mother, how could she be so calm in the face of such cruelty, the soldiers didn't even hide what they did to her sister in laws body before her death. Her arm stopped before it even lifted though, her mother was right, if they were going to survive, they had to think clearly.

The two women ran through out the building, fighting soldiers and finding as many servants as they could. Fayne could tell her mother was tiring, but she could not simply stop. Even the arrow in her shoulder was a dull ache compared to the pain that pulled at her heart. That pain increased even more as she beheld her father's proud from, broken and bloodied on the floor of the larder. The head of the Couslands was drowning in his own blood at the hand of Howe.

"Father!" Fayne exclaimed as she ran to his body. She tripped on his blood and landed heavily on her knees. She wanted to cry, but kept strong, they would survive this.

Bryce's cold hand grabbed his daughters face as he struggled to speak, "Know that I love you pup, and that our house shall have it vengeance, you shall have your vengeance." His eyes turned determined as he looked behind Fayne, he nodded his head once and then returned his gaze back to his daughter. "I am sorry we have to part this way, but I know you, and I can't let your stubbornness get you killed.

Fayne tried to turn her head to look at the person her father had motioned to, but his hands held her face firmly in place, his eyes were pleading as he whispered, "I will always be with you pup."

A sudden pain in her neck caused her eyes to widen and her then to roll back in her head. She felt her body go limp as she fell to the ground, darkness narrowed her vision. The last thing she saw were a pair of armour clad arms reaching towards her.