It was cold. And by cold, she meant thick, snowy, Colorado-winter-cold. She'd been to Colorado once, in the middle of winter. It wasn't a pleasant experience.
It took some time for her eyes to adjust to the startling brightness of the outside world. The prison had been dimly lit, easier on her head. Out here though, the sky was as white as the snow on the ground, and the brightness was too much for comfort. Her migraine reminded her of its presence and she had to take another deep gulp of air to keep it down in her stomach.
But it was summer last time I checked...how did it become winter so quickly? Where are we?
With teary eyes, the girl blinked and made another attempt to look at her surroundings. Perhaps she could get a clue by finding a sign to read. She wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be another country. Cassandra's accent sounded exotic...Russian, maybe? Or German? The town around them seemed antiquated, constructed with wood and stone like one would see in an illustration of ye olde times. Surrounded by tall, rocky mountains, it was the kind of town one thought of when reading fairy tales or might see in a fantasy movie. But as she was making her survey, her focus turned midway upon a strange formation in the skies – a spiraling pillar of light stretching down from the heavens, glowing with a bright green light she'd grown to despise.
Cassandra noticed her staring at it. "We call it the Breach," she supplied. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift; just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."
"Explosion?" the girl echoed, remembering what Cassandra said about the Conclave. It had been destroyed, and everyone attending it had died. "Are you sure that bombs can do this? I know ISIS is a growing threat, but even I don't think they can pull that off." She finished with a pointed nod at the Breach.
There was silence as the woman narrowed her eyes at her. "It was not a bomb," she said after a while. "Neither was it...eye-sis...at least, not that we know of. You, on the other hand..."
She was interrupted when the Breach pulsed in the sky and widened in an explosion of light. A thundering crack split through the air as its energies flared, reverberating through the mountains. In response, the electricity in the girl's left hand burst out again, hissing and crackling with such vehemence that she was forced to her knees.
"Aaagh!" She instinctively hugged her hand closer to her body, as if cradling it tightly would make the pain go away. Of course, it didn't; a thousand little knives dug into her skin and threatened to cut through the very muscle and bone. Every fingertip flared with burning heat and tingled with pinching, prickly static. It hurt so badly she considered asking to get it amputated. Surely a severed limb would feel better in comparison?
Cassandra knelt down beside her, her face grim. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads...and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."
Well, no shit, she thought as she heard that the mark was killing her. In fact, if left unchecked, she was afraid the thing might actually consume her...spread its electricity over her entire body...and she quailed at the thought. But upon hearing 'the key to stopping this', she asked, "Stopping what? The Breach?"
The woman nodded. "Your mark might actually close it. Whether that's possible is something we'll discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours."
She did not like the way Cassandra said those last two words. She also failed to see how a mark of electricity on her hand could close, much less stop, a thing the monstrous size of the Breach. How was she so sure she wouldn't be killed in the process? How was she even sure the mark wasn't etched on her palm by her captors in the first place?
But she did not voice these opinions as Cassandra pulled her to her feet. She had not seen it back in the prison, but a ragged scar ran down the length of the woman's cheek and there was a sword tucked in her belt as well as a large shield strapped on her back. Depending on how skilled she was, Cassandra could cut the girl down with little to no effort. She'd thought the inhabitants of wherever-this-was seemed a little...different. A little too obsessed with fantasy cosplaying. She didn't think they'd take it this seriously. Then again, they held her at swordpoint earlier – what wouldn't they do?
Cassandra pushed her into a walk, a firm hand gripping her back as if to lay claim to her. In other words, she was reminding her of her inability to escape. The girl averted her eyes from the older woman's face, more than a little unnerved by its stony expression, but found nothing comforting in the eyes of the townspeople either. As they went through the town, walking down paths too small and undeveloped to really be called streets, and passing by more tents than buildings, the girl saw that everyone who laid eyes on them – or rather, her – twisted their faces into scowls, as if she were some sort of dirty creature come to make their lives worse.
"They have decided your guilt," Cassandra explained. "They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together; now, they are dead."
Could this get any more fantasy-like? It seemed semi-believable at first, what with the Conclave and the Breach in the sky, but then at 'mages' the girl almost let out a laugh. Of course, she stifled that urge with a well placed cough. "Um, look," she began, "you can tell the director to reveal the cameras now. This must've been fun, but I'd like to go home."
Cassandra glared at her. "Director? Cameras? What are you – are you feeling all right?"
I have a migraine, my body's sore, and my toe might get worse even though I can't feel it. No, I feel horrible, but, "I'm still sane, if that's what you mean."
"What is your point?"
"You...you know! This is all staged! You're an actress, these people are actors, and we're someplace in the Swiss Alps with special effects for some kind of reality show." When Cassandra didn't say anything, she added, "If you keep me here any longer with my injuries, I could sue your filming company for kidnapping charges." She wasn't sure if that was accurate according to the law, but if it could send the message across, she was willing to use it.
The grip on her back tightened and the look on Cassandra's face darkened. "The people's suffering is real. The Breach and rifts are real. The explosion at the Conclave was real. All that we've been through, and you have the gall to undermine it as fake?"
The girl winced when her left foot stubbed against a stone. Cassandra's pace had quickened, forcing her feet to do the same. "But how can this be real? I mean, mages...magic doesn't exist. You know that...right?"
They stopped at a gate on the edge of the town. Upon their arrival, a pair of soldiers pushed it open to reveal a stone bridge spanning a rocky gorge. Cassandra was silent as she pushed her prisoner onto this bridge, but after taking a few steps forward, she let go of her. The woman slid out a dagger that'd been sheathed from behind and poised the blade in the middle of the girl's ropes. The girl watched it warily, half-afraid the weapon would be plunged into her belly. When Cassandra jerked it a second later, she gave a start, but looked down to see her wrists free and the cut ropes lying at her feet.
"There will be a trial. I can promise no more." Cassandra tucked the dagger back into its sheath and turned around to continue walking. "Come. It is not far."
The girl stood there, blinking in surprise before starting after the stern woman. "Where are you taking me?" she asked apprehensively. "And aren't you afraid I might run away?"
"Are you running away right now?" Cassandra asked back, and the girl thought she could hear a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Lost in an unfamiliar land, deep in the middle of winter, and with an injured toe to boot; no, she realized, she could not, and would not run away. She'd be dead within the week out there in the snowy wilderness. That was if Cassandra didn't catch her first. The bandages were effective padding, but not enough for a run. Cassandra looked athletic, too. She really didn't stand a chance on her own.
"So...where are we going?" she repeated, ignoring the previous question altogether.
"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach," the woman replied, and that was all she cared to say on the subject.
The girl bit down on her lower lip, wondering if she should ask for clarification, but Cassandra didn't seem the type to elaborate on things. She was also probably still pissed by the accusation earlier. The girl didn't think she wanted to test that anger again.
So she shut her mouth as she followed Cassandra across the bridge. There were more people farther down and she kept her eyes downcast in response. Though she knew she'd done nothing wrong, she didn't like being stared at so angrily. It scared her. This time, however, no one spared her a second glance. She soon knew why.
Wounded people. Dead people. Three soldiers reclined against the stone railing, nursing their bloody injuries. Another soldier was curled on the ground in a fetal position, rocking back and forth with an unstable look on his face. A person in red and white robes knelt praying over six canvas covered bundles...bundles in the eerie shape of the human body. The girl's foot then stepped on something soft and firm, like a limb, and she screamed in horror when she saw her boot touching the arm of a bloody corpse. Lifeless eyes stared up at her, as if in reproach of her clumsiness.
Cassandra whirled around with an annoyed expression on her face. "Watch your step," she snapped, and turned back to continue walking.
The girl sped after her with limping hops before resuming her previous slow pace. She hung closer to the woman now, as if in doing so she could avoid more encounters with the dead.
Regardless, they were everywhere. Five more bundles lay motionless to the left. A woman with what looked like a clipboard stood writing over – ten? Eleven? – bundles to the right. Another trio of wounded soldiers lay groaning on the ground, and it was to her distaste that she found the sight of them refreshing. Their injuries looked painful, but at least they were alive. Yet perhaps she spoke too soon, for she saw more canvas wrapped corpses stacked on a wagon to the right...and three more uncovered corpses to the left.
They had approached the next gate when the girl asked Cassandra to stop.
"What is it now?" the woman asked irritably, and jumped back in time to prevent the first wave of vomit from splashing on her boots. "Maker's breath!" she hissed.
It was just too much. The corpses, the migraine, the nausea lying dormant in her stomach...it was all awakened when one thought led to another, and she began to smell – or at least thought she smelled – the stink of carrion. Highly improbable what with the cold temperature, but her imagination ran wild nonetheless.
The girl shivered and hugged her stomach. She would have loved to sink to the ground, but that meant touching the same stones a dead body might have been on. So instead, she kept to her feet, even though her knees clattered like rickety beams.
"Are you quite finished?" Cassandra asked when no more vomit was forthcoming.
The girl ran a hand through her hair, groaning in disgust when she saw a chunk of vomit nestled in the black strands closest to her face. "Yeah," she rasped. "Is there anything I can wipe off with?"
"You can use your sleeve, or the snow," Cassandra suggested with a shrug. "We don't have much to spare you at the moment." Upon seeing the disgusted look spread on the girl's face, she asked, "Is this your first time seeing a corpse?"
The girl cringed. "Yes."
Cassandra sighed, as if she couldn't be bothered to deal with this latest obstacle. She shut her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered something under her breath before turning back to the girl. "Prepare yourself. There are more up ahead."
She supposed she should be lucky the woman made no snide remarks about fake corpses and staged deaths. That was the last thing the girl wanted on her nerves, even though she would have loved for it to be otherwise.
"Open the gate!" Cassandra yelled to the soldiers, who, the girl realized, had been audience to the vomiting spectacle. "We are headed into the valley!"
They pushed open the great wooden doors and watched with curiosity as Cassandra led the trembling girl out onto a dirt path. They didn't whisper, standing apart from each other as they did, but she had no doubt they would whisper once she and Cassandra were gone.
The gate closed behind them while they made their way up the path. It led up a slight incline, rounding the edge of a hill. Barricades of spiky wood lay in strategic positions along the sides, and one of them was manned by two soldiers brandishing their swords, watching the hilltop for any sign of danger. After passing that barricade, Cassandra allowed the girl a moment of repose to scoop up some snow and wipe her face and hair.
Harried footsteps scuffled the dirt in front of them and the girl looked up mid-wipe to see three men running down the hill. "Maker, it's the end of the world!" one of them yelled as they ran by. She knew she shouldn't have, but she stared wide-eyed after their quickly disappearing forms.
"Pay them no heed," Cassandra told her, dismissing the men with a wave.
The girl said nothing and rose to her feet.
They continued on their way and passed by two more soldiers using an overturned wagon as a barricade. Directly to the right, a corpse lay uncovered in the snow. The girl didn't know whether this was her twelfth or twentieth one today; she'd seen too many on the bridge to keep track. This corpse was different, though. It was dressed in robes etched with strange engravings, unlike the others, which had been armored or in tunics and breeches.
"A mage," Cassandra supplied.
Mage. The word still didn't sound serious to her, but its ridiculousness was lessened by what she'd seen. That didn't make it seem more real, but everything was definitely grimmer than before.
Two more corpses lay on either side of the path. They preceded a burning wagon, and another, and then – her stomach lurched again – a burning body. This time she could clearly smell the smoking meat. It smells like pork, she thought, and fought to keep the nausea back down. She found that shutting her eyes tight and imagining a barbecue party helped, although she wanted no piece of the food. This'll keep me off of meat for a long time.
Cassandra noticed her discomfort (and her closed eyes) and led her by the arm up the hill. "They're gone," she said, and when the girl opened her eyes again, she saw that the woman was right. She could still smell the smoke behind them, though...charred wood mixed with burning flesh...she spit into the snow as the sour taste of bile rose into her throat and gently eased out of Cassandra's grip.
"I'm fine," she assured the woman. "I just...I just need to not think about it."
"Fair enough."
Crashing rocks alerted her to the Breach and she whirled around to see thick green meteors fall from the sky. As she feared, the Breach pulsed again and her left hand sizzled with heat. It came on more strongly this time, forcing her not only to her knees but down onto her back. Pulse after pulse of piercing pain swept through the nerves, making even the simple act of twitching her finger a feat of impossibility.
Oh my god, when will it stop? Tears streamed down her face as she cried out in pure agony. Someone, make it stop! It hurts so much!
Like a patient nanny, Cassandra bent over her and helped her up. Her hands were actually gentle this time, and when the girl was on her feet again, she even placed steadying hands on her shoulders.
"The pulses are coming faster now," Cassandra remarked. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear...the more demons we face." She watched the green flares dance, waiting until they subsided, and then gave the girl an encouraging pat on the shoulder before continuing to lead the way.
Though the electricity was gone, the girl's left hand ached with the remnants of the last flare. She wiped at her eyes and nursed it carefully, unable to bring herself to look at the mark. In fact, she hadn't yet laid eyes on it in full. She was too scared of what she would see, and she'd been frightened enough on this walk already.
"How am I still alive?" she wondered aloud, her voice sore from crying out. She tried to explain this phenomena with what little scientific and medical knowledge she had, but couldn't arrive at an answer that seemed reasonable; at least, not without her being dead. Or horribly maimed.
"They said you...stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious," Cassandra began. "They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knew who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid to waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes."
The girl was confused at first on how those things correlated with one another: the rift, the woman, the valley. Then she realized Cassandra was talking about the explosion and was attributing her survival to the woman in the rift. Not the answer she expected...and not even one that made things the tiniest bit clearer. She pursed her lips, remembering the last time she doubted reality out loud, and remained silent.
The winter wind howled through the air, driving drifts of snow up against her boots. She watched the white flurries dance on the ground, thinking of how white and cloud-like they seemed. She sighed as she lost herself in their twirls, tracing the floating movements with her weary eyes. It took her mind off the pain and calmed her down, somewhat.
"What is your name?" Cassandra suddenly asked.
The girl jolted. "You want to know my name?" she sputtered.
"I do," Cassandra reaffirmed. Then her eyes narrowed. "Unless you're hiding something..."
She quickly shook her head. "N-no! I was just – I was just surprised. You didn't seem like...like you wanted to know..." But she was faced with another predicament as she tried to think of what to say. She had nothing to hide, but her name was rather complex. Should she give her full name? She'd have to explain how to pronounce it properly, though. That might take too long. Should she give her nickname? It was easier to say, but might come across as childish. She didn't have the luxury of taking long to decide, though, for every passing second would be interpreted as hesitance. So she blurted out, "Ahnnie. My name is Ahnnie."
"Aw-nee?" Cassandra frowned.
I knew it, Ahnnie thought. She thinks it's childish. With a sigh, she began to stammer, "It's actually a nickname. My, um, my real name, because I'm Asian, you know, is Diễm Anh."
"Yee-ah...Yee-ahm..."
Ahnnie chuckled nervously as Cassandra tried to imitate the up-and-down intonation on the first part of her name. "Yeah, so, I use my nickname more. I mean, you could just call me Anh...but I prefer Ahnnie. See, my friends made it up for me in the fourth grade. People always misspelled my name as A-h-n instead of A-n-h...so they just stuck an 'ee' to the end of it, and it became...Ahnnie."
Rather than clearing up any doubt, her explanation only seemed to confuse Cassandra further.
"Just call me Ahnnie," she said at last, and the conversation ended there.
They soon came to a second bridge. It was smaller than the first and arched over a frozen river. Ahnnie was relieved to see that no dead lay upon its stones; there were soldiers up ahead who were very much alive and free of injuries. This bridge was also clear of rubble, so compared to what she'd seen earlier, crossing it was going to be like a walk in the park.
And then a meteor struck.
It landed squarely on the group of soldiers, sending them flying in a blast of brilliant emerald light. Ahnnie shielded her eyes and coughed as dust rose up around her. Then the bridge began to shake, and the stones beneath her feet gave away. In a maddening tumble, she and Cassandra fell through the crumbling stones, screaming as they bumped and rolled tumultuously down onto the ice.
Ahnnie in particular landed with a thud on her back. Ooogh...She grimaced as pain lanced through her spine. Her head felt even worse, and she had to lie there a moment to let the haze pass before rolling onto her stomach. When she looked up, she was amazed to see Cassandra already back on her feet, poised and alert. That woman must be made of steel! How else could she rebound so quickly?
Another meteor burst out from the Breach and hit the ice in front of them. Ahnnie closed her eyes again, feeling the impact vibrate through the ice. When it settled a moment later, she opened her eyes a crack and saw something grow out of the spot where the meteor had hit.
Her eyes widened when it became a monster.
"What – What the hell is that?" she yelled. It was a sickly brown color and as big as a man, perhaps even bigger, roughly six to seven feet tall. Its body was angular and torpedo-shaped, and its shoulders were thickened as though hunchbacked. Its arms were spindly in comparison, a garish mockery of humanoid limbs. It had no legs as far as she could tell, or its legs were covered by the robe-like bottom it was wearing if that wasn't an extension of its own skin.
The monster reared its head and let out a screeching, ear-splitting shriek. Ahnnie felt that shriek deep in her chest and froze in place like a frightened animal.
Cassandra felt it too, but took it as a challenge rather than a reason to cower. "Stay behind me!" she commanded, and with her sword in one hand and her shield in the other, she ran up to face the monster.
Don't leave me here! Ahnnie wanted to scream, but her mouth was frozen in a wide 'O'. She couldn't summon the courage to blink, much less move.
Just when things couldn't get any worse, the ice in front of her cracked and hissed. She looked at the spot and saw the ice bubbling darkly, followed by a glowing green energy. No. The cracking intensified and the green energy flared. No! She gripped the ice in terror as the energy ruptured in a great pillar of green light, and another brown monster just like the first one burst through.
This second monster spared no time getting down to business, roaring at her and slashing at her face with a spindly claw. She yelped and rolled away; shards of ice flew past her vision as the monster missed its mark. It roared again and swiped after her, tearing at the edge of her scarf. She scrambled to her knees and scuttled away as fast as she could, but its claws came in close behind her every single time.
"Help! Someone help me!" Ahnnie screamed, but there was no one to hear her plea. Cassandra was busy fighting the first monster, the soldiers on the bridge were dead, and there was not another soul around for miles; unless a bolt of lightning came down from the sky to strike the monster where it stood, no one would come to her aid.
No one, except for herself.
She swerved again as the monster made another attack, but tumbled to the ground and found herself vulnerable on her back, the deadly monster hovering over her. Its next strike would surely take her, ripping through clothes and deep into skin, spilling her blood and guts onto the ice. In a wild frenzy, her hands grabbed out at anything that could save her – anything that could delay the inevitable – and just as the monster bore down on her again, she grabbed hold of a wooden circle and hefted it over her body.
Crack! The monster's claws hit the wood, splintering its surface. It took Ahnnie a moment to register that she was safe, thanks to the wood. No, it's a shield, she realized when she saw a metallic handle, and she grasped it awkwardly as she mobilized herself to prepare for the next strike. Crack! The monster hit again, the impact of its strike jarring her uncomfortably, but once again she was safe. She backed herself against a pile of rubble to try and regain her footing.
As she did so, she spied a sword from the corner of her eye and thought jackpot. Now if only she could get closer to it. She let the shield take another hit from the monster and slowly edged her bottom towards the sword. Just a little more. Crack! This time the monster lunged at her shield with the force of its weight on its elbow. She winced as the impact shoved her roughly against the broken stones, but her free hand groped about the ice in search of the sword regardless.
Almost...almost! Her gloved fingers clawed at the pommel, bumping against the metal.
The monster drew back in preparation for another strike.
Please! Come on! She stretched her arm as far as it could go. Her muscles screamed with the exertion, but she fought against it.
The monster lunged down at her.
Her fingers scrabbled faster against the ice and touched the leather wrapping of the handle.
The monster flared its claws and rent the air with another deafening shriek.
Her fingers finally found purchase on the grip of the sword and she swung it upwards. In a desperate motion, she threw the shield aside to hold up the heavy weapon in two hands. The monster closed in on her and she screamed as it fell...
...impaling itself against the blade.
Black blood splattered all over her clothes, some even landing on her face, one drop threatening to spill into her mouth. The monster screamed, writhed, and then drop dead before her eyes. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as she stared into its deadly maw, frozen into a perpetual scream. It was dead. She had killed it. She killed a monster!
"Ah...ahaha...ahahaha!" Relief and panic mixed in the pit of her stomach, a roiling battleground of ticklish feeling, and she tossed her head back to let out a burst of maniacal laughter. She found no hilarity in the situation, but she couldn't help herself. Her arms shook in rhythm with her mirth, and with the heavy monster still stuck on the blade, her hands threatened to let go of the sword and let the dead thing tumble on top of her.
She was relieved of that problem when the monster's body started dissipating into dust, blown away by the howling wind. Is it a demon? she wondered, remembering what Cassandra said about the rifts. And yet she still laughed at the empty blade, so shocked was she at what just happened.
Eventually she ran out of wind for her laughs, and she slowly eased back into sanity. With a gentle lowering of her sword, she rose to her feet. The ice, slick with the monster's blood, threatened to make her slip on her first step. She eased away from the liquid and looked around for Cassandra. The woman was battling a third monster that had appeared while Ahnnie had been struggling with the second one, the first monster already a spot of black blood on the ice. She contemplated going over to help, but then Cassandra cut down the monster with an adept blow and the thing tumbled lifelessly onto the ice. A moment later, it, too, faded into nothing but dust.
Ahnnie tensed and raised her sword in trembling hands as she scanned the length of the frozen river, half expecting another creature to show up out of nowhere. When everything was still, she relaxed her position and pointed the sword downwards.
Cassandra, on the other hand, kept her sword up and stormed over to her. Ahnnie thought at first that she was zeroing in something behind her and whirled around to face it, but when Cassandra got closer, she realized that the sword was up and pointed at her.
"Drop your weapon. Now," the woman barked.
Ahnnie's fingers released the sword and the weapon clattered onto the ice. "B-but what if there are more?" she protested. "How am I supposed to protect myself?"
"You won't need to."
"How do you know that?"
Cassandra paused. Then she sighed in defeat. "You're right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless. Your life is threatened enough as it is."
Ahnnie gulped and watched her carefully. "So...I can have the sword?"
Cassandra sheathed her weapon and straightened her stance. "Yes, you may."
The girl sighed in relief and picked up the sword again. It was ungainly in her hands, though, heavy and burdensome on the wrists. Cassandra noticed the clumsy way she held it and added, "Just listen to what I tell you to do and you should be fine. And here, wear this..." She plucked a helmet from a dead soldier who'd been squished beneath the stones and plopped it over Ahnnie's head. "Maker knows what we will face."
The girl shivered when the cold metal touched her head, but brushed the stray hair out of her face when she saw no other alternative. Whatever protection she could find, it was best to use it...even if it came from a dead person. As she looked down at the unfortunate soul whose helmet she now wore, she asked, "Maybe the soldiers can help us? Aren't there more up ahead?"
The answer that Cassandra gave her filled her with dread. "No. They are all at the forward camp, or fighting. We are on our own for now."