A/N: I hate this chapter, so I won't be hurt if you do as well.

Key:
"Dialogue"
"Spirit/Demon"
'Thoughts'

Chapter 3: The Breach

One of the first things Hariel noticed about the fade was that time passed strangely. She would learn a small bit from Wisdom, perhaps what felt to be no more than a few hours, and suddenly Solas would return. Knowing that, no- he hadn't taken a nap, but an entire day had passed in the mortal realm. Other times, she would swear she spent a week in the Fade learning more than she ever thought possible about this world when Solas would claim no more than twelve hours had passed.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

Even so, it was more of a blessing rather than a curse because she knew literally nothing about Thedas, it's people, history or geographical layout. Wisdom was helpful in many ways, but other Spirits such as Knowledge and Courage had surprisingly more information for her to learn about. Courage mostly because, like her world, Thedas had seen its fair share of war. As such, spirits of Courage and Bravery spent much time around the mortal plane to observe and interact in whichever way they could find.

Hariel learned much, absorbing every bit of information she could, and writing what she knew to be absolutely important in her never-ending journal from her pouch. Hermione's beaded bag had garnered quite a few looks of astonishment from the Spirits she dealt with and from Solas as well who had never seen such magic before.

It was her bag that prompted quite a few lengthy conversations about the differences in Magic they had. It appeared that her brand of magic was opposite to that of Thedas. Where mages took from the Fade, she took from her own person, or rather her magical core. Essentially, he claimed she must have a "fade" within her. She didn't quite understand it but it helped put him at ease a bit so she didn't bother to say differently.

She told him a very summarized version of what she had learned over the hundred or so years she had lived and explained that magicals lived a fair bit longer than non-magicals, though she had stopped aging when she reached 21 and had remained the same since.

"So you are longer lived?" he asked when the topic came to light.

"Immortal it seems. I've done most everything I could think of to pass on, but Death will not receive me." she said duly. Though most emotions seemed pointless now, bitterness and hate toward death was not one she would let go of until she was taken by him.

"That is-...I am sorry. It is a lonely life to live." His voice was honest and utterly anguished. He didn't say it aloud, but she understood that he was immortal as well. The understanding was what hurt the most. A pain in her heart as she sympathized with the Elven man.

They spoke of a great many things aside from their magic, such as the current standing of the world. Essentially, she landed herself in a world ravaged by a Mage-Templar War. When she made it out of the Fade, Solas promised she could travel alongside him until such a time she was prepared to leave and live on her own. She appreciated the offer and said she would take him up on it when they discovered how to release her.

He had an idea, a radical one from what Wisdom muttered, and it was to tear down the Veil itself. No veil, no barrier and the Fade and Thedas would bleed into one again. During the Golden Age of the Elvhen, the Veil did not exist, Spirits and Mortals and Elvhen alike walked on the same ground. Solas spoke highly of the time when Arlathan existed. So much so that she concluded he lived through that time. To see the world as it was now (war ridden, elves seen little more than slaves, and spirits thought to be nothing more than demons) she could understand why he was more interested in the past than the present, and why he wanted to tear down the Veil.

After what Solas claimed to be a month of her residing in the Fade (how she had not starved was a mystery to her and Solas, but not one that she minded) Solas disappeared for a time. She couldn't be completely sure as to how long he had been dreaming elsewhere, but she was certain it had to be more than a few days. Wisdom agreed, so she was a fair bit concerned to what happened to her only ally in Thedas.

She was speaking to Wisdom about the Elvhen gods and goddesses when an earthquake overtook the Fade. Seeing Wisdom appear less than calm sent her into a mild panic. She didn't know what was happening but did not wish to see Wisdom harmed in any way. The ground shook below her and, like when she had been taken by Wisdom, something grabbed her and swallowed her down.

"Hariel!" she heard Wisdom scream her name, but the glowing being disappeared in the darkness that consumed her.

She met the ground harshly, her body jolting against the force. Groaning, she turned herself over and looked to see where she landed. Dark greens, wisps beyond, and the dull grey and black that she had first seen when she landed in the fade.

Fear's domain.

Standing, she saw a body lying away from her not far off. An actual body. Not glowing like a spirit, and not exuding a fog like a demon. A physical body! She walked over to it, cautious when she noticed a glowing green scar along the left palm. The aura felt familiar...the magic more so yet she could not pinpoint why. She saw the face and it looked similar to her own.

Bright red hair, green eyes, and a somewhat similar facial structure. 'Cousins. We could easily be mistaken for cousins.' she thought absentmindedly. She sighed softly when it was clear that the woman was dead: her eyes dull and chest still. She closed the woman's eyes with her fingers whispering a soft prayer for her soul before looking closer to the scar. The magic vibrated violently on her palm, green light coming off it in waves. Curious, she sent a wave of magic toward it, and to her surprise it responded lightly. It was calling to her, softly, but surely. With narrowed eyes, she reached out to trace the scar and magic tingled in the air.

The moment her finger grazed it, she felt the magic take hold immediately. Tendrils leached onto her palm and sunk themselves into her body. It was...not exactly painful, but certainly uncomfortable. The magic coiled and battled her own magic as it sensed an evading force. Shaking her hand to relieve some of the pressure, she watched wide-eyed as the woman turned to dust before her eyes, a small blue smoke drifting away by invisible wind.

'This magic was keeping her alive in a way...without it she passed on?' she wondered lightly.

"Please! Somebody! Help me!" A woman screamed in French. Turning her head, she watched as a woman was being chased by shadowy figures.

'Fearlings' she thought. Wisdom had told her they existed in Fear's domain. She was unable to see them due to the fact that Fears all rooted back to the most basic fear of death. People feared spiders, fire, heights, and such due to the fact that they can all lead to a painful death. She had no such fear, rather she embraced it, and so fearlings merely looked like a pitiful ball of smoke.

The woman, however, clearly saw something and she ran for her life, crawling up a mountain face toward...a green scar? There was a scar in the space above the mountain, green and vibrant like the magic in her palm. With narrowed eyes, she started to run toward the woman. At the moment, she was her hope to get out of the Fade since she was just as physical as herself.

She had never been particularly physically active, and groaned when she started to feel the burn in her muscles as she climbed.

"Hold on!" she said in French to the woman as she continued her climb.

"Please! Help me!"

It took a few more moments before she reached the woman. She was elderly, soft wrinkles sprayed across her face and she wore some sort of fancy robe, complete with a hat that screamed self-importance.

"Come! We must run through!" The woman commanded, grasping her arm and rushing her toward the scar. Turning her neck she saw from over her shoulder that the little fears were closing in on them. They could do little harm to her as she saw them as nothing more than smoke-balls, but they could harm the woman.

As they got closer to the scar, the woman jerked back and her grasp on her arm tightened. It wasn't the fearlings that had her, but something else. Something more powerful.

Fear

"Not so fast little creature." its voice surrounded them in its false gentleness. "You will not escape me this time."

She tugged on the woman, trying to pull her away from the force, but it wasn't working. Not even her magic was doing anything. The elderly woman grasped on tightly, her face in pain before it cleared suddenly...alarmingly.

"Go." she said calmly, "Warn them." her voice was soft, but firm.

Hariel stared at her confused. 'Warn who?' but she couldn't ask...the woman let go of her arm and was pulled into the fray of fearlings...lost.

She stared at the darkness for a moment, glaring at the little fears that surrounded her before she turned and ran for the scar. She didn't know the elderly womans' name but she wouldn't forget her. Any who embrace death despite their obvious fear deserve to be remembered. When she reached the scar, she didn't hesitate.

She jumped.

There was a blur of colors and suddenly she was on the physical ground again, and pain greeted her with fervor. She could hear the unsheathing of metal and groaned lightly. The world around her was a blur with nothing bearing clarity. She could see a pair of boots coming toward her face, a glint of metal in the corner of her eyes.

"Go find Leliana and Casandra, NOW!"

She tried to reach out to the voice, but before she could begin to reach out, her palm flared angrily and the pain became all consuming.

Distantly, she realized she was screaming, her throat contracting and being abused by her voice. She vaguely felt herself curl in, hoping to contain her pain, but knew nothing would help. Instead, she gave into the black that began to spot her vision and welcomed the painless dark.