The brown monsters were called shades, and just as Ahnnie suspected, they were demons that had come through the rifts. What she didn't expect was that they were only one of many.
"So there are different kinds of demons?" the girl asked bewilderingly.
Cassandra nodded. "There are demons, and then there are demonic possessions. Demons have different attributes based on the emotions they feed off of, such pride, sloth, terror. You will usually see them in their true form. Demonic possessions are abominations created when a demon takes possession of a mage or a corpse. Some have even been known to possess trees."
"What about the shades?"
"The shades are not entirely clear...some say they are the true form of a demon appearing out of the Fade without a host. Others believe they are the spirits of the dead returned to the mortal world." She shrugged. "Whatever they are, it only matters that they are cut down as swiftly as possible."
Ahnnie nodded, taking a moment to digest the information. "What's the Fade?" she next asked.
"It is a realm where spirits and demons reside, separated from the mortal world by the Veil."
"What's the Veil?"
"Maker's breath!" Cassandra hissed. "So many questions! Do you truly not know what the Fade and Veil are?"
"No...that is, I truly don't know what they are."
"So you are hearing of them for the first time?"
"Well, yes..." That much was obvious if she was asking about them.
Cassandra furrowed her brows at the girl as if she were an oddity. At last, she said, "The Veil is a barrier between the Fade and the mortal world. The rifts and the Breach are tears in the Veil that demons can pass through; they are not easily let out otherwise." She let this sink in before asking, "Any more questions?"
Ahnnie shook her head.
"Good."
They walked some more in silence, boots crunching on the snow and frozen dirt. After the encounter on the river, they had walked up the ice back onto solid ground as an alternative to the bridge. The path then continued on a high bank along the river's course, so that it was visible alongside them as they went. Ahnnie's eyes occasionally flitted from the path to the ice, watching for the slightest sign of another demon.
But more often than not, it was the dead they encountered on the trail. More of these corpses were mages, as Ahnnie saw from their robes, although they were still outnumbered by the soldiers. Cassandra stooped down several times to unbuckle armor from dead soldiers and tie it onto Ahnnie when she thought a certain piece would fit the girl. When she was finished, Ahnnie wore a breastplate, pauldrons, and greaves in addition to her helmet.
It felt funny and awkward to move underneath the metal at first. Then Ahnnie soon grew used to it, although she didn't move as smoothly as Cassandra did in her armor. She suspected it was because the woman was armed in mostly leather, which was more flexible than metal. Another worry was added to her list when she considered that metal was conductive and her left hand might flare again.
She supposed she was lucky, then, that the cursed hand was currently wrapped around the hilt of her sword. It was, of course, inconvenient to be carrying a heavy sword in both hands all the time. After the first few minutes, her arms started to tire and she had to invent new ways of holding or shifting the sword so that its weight did not bother her as much. Cassandra had not yet looted a sword belt though, and neither did Ahnnie think she wanted her to. Or if she did, then she would hold her left hand as far away from her body as possible.
"How are you feeling?" Cassandra asked her a moment later.
Ahnnie perked up at this question of concern. She made a mental evaluation of herself and found that her aches and pains had been kept at bay in order to focus on her survival. But when she thought of them again, they crept back up in slow amounts. She backed out of those thoughts as quickly as possible and said, "Oh, I'm fine...why do you ask?"
The woman jerked her head in the direction of the river. "There are shades up ahead."
She looked to where Cassandra indicated and saw two of those demons sliding around on the ice. They moved in a peculiar manner, using their arms as a propelling force while their feet – well, she wasn't sure if they were feet or just a big block of flesh, but she called them 'feet' anyway – slid with the momentum.
It's like they're swimming, she observed as she saw one shade stretch its arms to the front before waving them aside in a tense, sweeping motion, as though to push itself through water. What's it called...frog stroke? Breaststroke?
She found herself amused despite knowing how deadly these creatures could be. And then remembering that deadliness, she scanned the path ahead to see if there was any way they could skirt around the shades. Perhaps if they stuck to the far side and were quiet, then the demons wouldn't notice them? But then she saw why Cassandra asked her if she was well enough, for the path soon dipped in a downward decline that led straight onto the frozen river. Tall rocks walled them in so that there were no alternative paths; running into the shades was inevitable.
Ahnnie gulped. "Okay," she said with a shaky exhalation and gestured weakly at the demons with a hand. "So...um..."
Cassandra stood in front of her, blocking her view of the demons. "Listen carefully. The sword you are holding – it is not well-suited for your body frame, but you can still use it effectively, if you heed my words."
"I'm listening," she nodded.
Cassandra then took hold of the sword, relieving her of its weight. "You see this?" She tapped a gloved finger lightly on the sword's point. "It is a straight blade, meant for stabbing. Mostly quick, thrusting motions. Do not make the mistake of slashing with the edge." She backed away and made a mock swing with the sword, in which the enemy would have been hit by the edge of the blade. "It will not be effective. You must slice with the tip, instead." She did the same thing, only this time it was the tip of the blade that struck the invisible enemy.
"Then a curved blade is better for slashing," Ahnnie inferred, "and should not be thrusted?" She was thinking of the Japanese katana in particular, or the Arabian scimitar. Now that Cassandra mentioned it, she saw the sense in the way that blades were used in relation to their shape.
"Correct. And when you fight, draw your power from your shoulders." Cassandra straightened and rolled a shoulder as an example. "This is where the bulk of your strength will come from, especially if your wrists cannot take the weight."
Thrusting and slicing motions; no slashing, and power from the shoulders, Ahnnie repeated in her mind as she took back the sword. "Got it."
Cassandra reached over again to readjust the placement of the girl's fingers, then nodded and pat her on the shoulder. Without another word, she led the way down the path and Ahnnie followed her like an obedient pup.
The girl's heart skipped a beat as they left the safety of the ground above and traded it for the dangers of the frozen river below. As they stepped onto the ice, Cassandra yelled out another piece of advice. "If we flank them, we may gain an advantage!"
At the sound of her voice, the shades whirled around and pushed themselves towards the humans.
Flank...advantage...For a split second, Ahnnie panicked as she forgot what the word 'flank' meant. Then she saw Cassandra heading up towards the side of a demon, and rushed to do the same with the other one. But she was slower because of her foot and cursed herself when she thought the second demon might gang up on Cassandra. Luckily (or not so luckily), it caught sight of her and oh-so-considerately propelled itself forward, saving her the distance.
Ahnnie stopped and stood her ground, more out of fear than courage. The monster came closer and as it neared, it let out that piercing shriek that made her want to quake in her very boots. Thrust, slice, shoulders – the words played over and over in her mind like a mantra. As long as she knew these words, she assured herself that she would be safe.
And then the shade struck out with its trademark claw swipe. Ahnnie yelped and shielded herself with the sword. The claws rang on the metal and sent a small shower of sparks flying in the air.
She was pretty sure she'd just violated one of Cassandra's rules somehow. To make up for it, she pulled the sword back and thought of doing one of the tip-slices, but then another claw came in quickly after the first and she instinctively blocked it with the sword. Before she could do anything else, the monster struck again, and again, and again.
It's too fast! She grit her teeth as her feet began to slide. Cassandra, on the other hand, was hacking and slashing freely at her shade. How does she do it? The only explanation Ahnnie could find was that she hadn't let the demon make the first blow. But then how am I ever going to get a hit?
She had her answer when one of the demon's strikes went a little overhanded and it cut its palm against the tip of her blade. It shrieked in what looked like pain, jerking back and holding its injured claw aloft. She scrambled to take advantage of this opening and swung the sword like a baseball bat; the blade's tip sliced against the monster's torso. Encouraged, she drew back her arms for another swing, but her wrists pivoted too slowly and the shade's good hand clawed her on the edge of her shoulder. Her breath caught when she saw the claws tear through cloth, but they had mostly struck the pauldron.
Ahnnie drew back a few steps and checked her shoulder. It's just the cloth, she sighed in relief when she saw no blood and felt no pain. Okay, now back to the – but she had committed the fatal battlefield mistake of being too preoccupied with trivialities, and the shade advanced on her. She did not notice until almost too late. With a startled cry, she raised her sword to block another swipe and felt the impact of a second one knock her from the side. This one, now, cut through skin. Her breastplate had taken half the blow, so that three half-finished slash marks were etched onto her ribs.
She hissed in pain and clutched her side in one hand. The sword lay useless in the uncultured grip of her other hand.
"Ignore it! Swing!" Cassandra commanded her as she finished cutting the first shade down.
Ahnnie reluctantly left her wound alone and held the sword in two hands again. But when she swung, she had only gone halfway until the pain in her side made her stop and slide to the ground.
Just in time, Cassandra came up from behind the monster and slashed at it viciously. The shade roared, turning around to face her instead. "Get back up!" she yelled to Ahnnie. "I have its attention! Use this chance to strike from behind!"
But it hurts! she wanted to protest. She knew that answer wouldn't sit well with Cassandra, though. And then Ahnnie thought of what might happen if it was the other way around, if Cassandra was killed by the monster, and she paled as she realized that meant she would be left alone with it and whatever else was out there.
So she quickly got up to her feet and did her best to pull through the pain. If I don't do this, I'll be left alone to fend for myself, she mentally warned, and the thought – even though it might not come true – effectively tricked her into the sort of panic that had saved her life earlier.
"Hah!" Ahnnie grunted as she sliced at the monster. The shade screamed and tried to turn to face her, but then Cassandra hacked at it again and it turned back to her.
"Good! Keep going!" Cassandra encouraged her.
Ahnnie grit her teeth against the pain and made another laborious swing. The monster turned to her again, and when Cassandra hacked at it, it found itself stuck between two difficult choices. Back and forth this went, a macabre game where they each took turns injuring the trapped shade.
"Now thrust," was the next command, and Ahnnie heaved with all her strength to plunge her blade deep into the creature's middle.
It shrieked and writhed, jarring her grip on the blade in its death throes, and then sank motionlessly to the ground. It forced her sword down as it fell and Ahnnie knelt along with the movement; then, when it was still, she pulled at the sword and yanked it out of the dead creature.
Cassandra watched as the girl panted for breath and held her injured side again. "You did well," she said, "although you were too open the first time."
Ahnnie smiled dryly. If Cassandra was being nice, she was too obvious about it.
"You must watch for openings," Cassandra went on. "Think as you move: is it going to hit here? Will it open up its side? Always be engaged. You cannot pull back to strategize or contemplate for any length of time, because you may fall dead before the second even finishes."
"Easier said than done," the girl sighed as she remembered how fast the creature had struck. The only thoughts she had in her head were in concern for her own safety. How was it possible to squeeze in any strategies? She'd tried that, got distracted, and failed horribly.
Cassandra came up to her and inspected her side. The green of the tunic was soaked in dark blood. She carefully pried her fingers around the torn cloth to inspect the wound. "It is not too deep," she evaluated. "Once we reach the forward camp, you can get it patched up. In the meantime, stay sharp and stick close to me. Keep your glove off the wound," she added when the girl moved to hold it again. "You don't want it to become slippery with blood; it will ruin your grip."
They walked down the ice and were met with another shade. Ahnnie groaned inwardly upon seeing it, but it was only one and Cassandra decided to take it on herself. So Ahnnie stood back and watched as the woman fell upon the demon with her trademark untiring ferocity – hack, slash, slice, stab – but things became different when a rush of green energy blasted over Cassandra and made her falter.
Cassandra cursed and cast about for the source of the disturbance in addition to keeping up the fight. "Up on that hill," she pointed out. "It attacks from a distance!"
Ahnnie immediately looked to where Cassandra pointed. There on that snowy hill, a green ghost floated above them, firing similarly-hued wispy balls at the action below.
"Take it down," Cassandra added as she dodged its attack.
"Alone?" Ahnnie yelled back, flabbergasted.
"It is a lesser wraith. They are weak and their magic only lasts a few seconds, but it would be best to take them out as soon as possible. If that one fires too much at me, we will soon be at a disadvantage."
Ahnnie nodded and reluctantly moved away from Cassandra. She went up the bank and jogged up a set of stairs etched into the ground that led to the wraith. It fired green balls her way as she advanced, but she ducked from a greater part of them. Still, whenever she was hit she felt a cold rush of air before momentarily faltering with her footing and grip on the blade. It was at such moments that she wished she had a shield, but there was no more complaining to be done when she finally reached it.
Wait...it's not solid, she realized. How am I supposed to take it down?
Cassandra was too occupied for her to ask the question though, and the wraith was forming another green ball in its hands. In a panic, the girl struck out at the wraith with a slash.
As she expected, the sword fell directly through it. It wasn't unaffected, however; it dropped its arms to its sides and drifted back, as if it had felt the impact. Bolstered by this observation, Ahnnie slashed again, and for once she was the one assaulting with the most speed. The wound in her side prevented her from swinging too widely, but that was enough to face this enemy. After a few such slashes, however ungainly, the wraith dispersed in a puff of green smoke.
Well, that was easy!
Below her, Cassandra had finished off the shade and was making her way up the hill. As she came close, she looked out at the snow and river ahead of them. "We still have some ways to go," she murmured. And then she saw Ahnnie. "I see you've finished off the wraith."
"Yeah, it wasn't too difficult." Then she paused. "It's not going to...come back, is it?" For the girl was suddenly afraid that this was one of those too-good-to-be-true moments.
"No. It really is that weak."
"So it's dead, right?" The thing didn't exactly 'die' the way normal things did, after all.
Cassandra shrugged. "I don't know. But it's gone, which is just as good. Now come along – we cannot waste any more time." She quickly crested the hill and went down the steps on the other side. Ahnnie followed, sword pointed downwards.
The path led them back down onto another stretch of frozen river. Ahnnie had begun to associate walking on the ice with encountering demons by now, but it was not so this time. Their trek went largely unmolested, the only things worthy of note being the occasional corpse sprawled on the ice or the howls of a faraway animal. The girl kept a tense grip on the sword regardless, remembering what Cassandra told her. She could easily infer from that that it was necessary to stay on the alert. Even the slightest stray thought might throw her off-guard. If another demon struck out now, she wanted to be prepared. She didn't want another wound like the one on her side...or something worse.
A steep staircase flanked by short stone walls greeted them after moments of silent walking. Ahnnie hoped that this was where they were going to go and was happy to see Cassandra turn in its direction. She was not so happy when she saw that the stairs stretched for a long, long way up. In consequence, her sword was suddenly made more cumbersome as they mounted the steps.
So she was surprised when Cassandra offered to hold it. "You need to keep your strength," she explained. "We're getting close to the rift; you can hear the fighting."
Ahnnie paused for a moment and indeed heard the din of clashing metal amidst the wind. A few steps later, the sounds of yelling men echoed along. An anxious feeling welled in her stomach as she wondered what was going on. "Who's fighting?"
"You'll see soon. We must help them."
She assumed from this answer that it was a group of soldiers. Ah, so this is where they're fighting, she thought, remembering that the soldiers were either doing that or were at the forward camp. And then she slowly pieced two-and-two together...a rift is close by, and the soldiers are fighting. It sounds like there are quite a few of them, too. So there must be even more demons up ahead!
When they reached the top of the stairs, Cassandra handed the sword back to her. She accepted it wordlessly and they advanced along the path. Directly to their right, a bridge with burning rubble lay awash in flames. They went by it, though, as the sound of fighting came from directly up ahead. The path ended at a short stone wall, beyond which lay the rubble of what was once an impressive stone building. Ahnnie saw a group of men fighting some shades within its broken confines and a dark green crystal floating over them. For that was what it looked like to her: a crystal.
She knew it was linked to her mark when she not only saw it surrounded by a familiar green miasma, but felt her left hand vibrate. She clenched that hand tighter, afraid of another flaring episode, but it only vibrated this time in a silent hum.
So this is a rift, she thought, looking back up at the crystal. How do I 'close' it?
Cassandra jumped down the wall and ran to join the fighting. Ahnnie sat her bottom on the wall and slid down carefully instead. Once on the ground, she proceeded to walk over the rubble, taking stock of the situation while she had the chance. The men were moving too much for her to count, but it looked like they were fighting three shades. Not as many demons as I thought, and she felt some relief. Perhaps they destroyed the others while we were coming here?
Ahnnie held her sword up as she stalked behind a broken wall. On the other side, Cassandra was fighting a shade. When the demon pushed its back into her line of vision, she straightened up and made a forceful swing. The blade felt out of control in her rolling wrists, but a ragged line of black ripped across the shade's skin regardless and it roared angrily.
Cassandra took advantage of the opening to make a deep cut of her own. "Good thinking," she told the girl. "It is always advantageous to strike from behind."
Ahnnie made another such swing but of a lesser span, finding that if she moved moderately, the pain in her side would not be unnecessarily stretched and her wrists wouldn't have to work half as hard. "I was actually scared," she admitted.
"But you used strategy," Cassandra pointed out as she finished off the monster, and the girl supposed that that was true. Still, it was strategy in a moment of peace, hardly the mid-combat thinking that Cassandra seemed to possess.
That being done, Cassandra moved off to help one of the men. Ahnnie followed close behind and was astonished at first to see how short this man was. She would have mistaken him for a child if not for his thick frame. And he was reckless, taking on a shade at such close quarters with what looked like little to no armor and only a crossbow.
But before she could reach him, a hand pulled on her left wrist and dragged her to the side. She dropped her sword in surprise, almost stumbling over a stray stone. When she righted herself, she turned to stare at the man who had handled her so roughly.
The first thing she noticed were his pointed ears.
"Quickly, before more come through!" he cried, and raised her hand towards the rift.
"What–" But she was cut off when her left hand burst with such a light that it almost blinded her. She screamed for the umpteenth time that day, not so much in pain this time as with incredulity.
A beam of green energy flowed from the mark in her hand to the center of the rift. It hurt, yes, but what got to her the most was the strange pulling sensation. It was as if the center of her palm and whatever was within it was being sucked out by the beam. She tried to yank against the pointy-eared man's grip, sure that she would lose her hand in this strange, science-defying feat, but he held firm and would not let her go.
The rift morphed as the beam fed into it, losing its jagged edge and falling into itself until it was an amorphous blob. Then the blob began to separate, stretching out like putty, and green light danced crazily all around them. The more it intensified, the more unstable the rift seemed to become. And then, in one thunderous boom, everything exploded in a brilliant sheen of light. Ahnnie gasped and drew back, shielding her eyes with her right hand. When she looked out a moment later, the rift was gone.
She brusquely yanked her wrist from the pointy-eared man and backed away from him. "What was that?" she asked him fearfully. "What did you do?"
Now that she saw him more clearly, she noticed in addition to his pointed ears that he was as bald as a bird's egg. He left his head bare, even though he was properly clothed for the weather; if he felt cold, he did not show it. A mystical-looking staff was also strapped on his back, and had this been a fantasy movie she would've pegged him as the magician.
He smiled at her, his manner as serene as though they were simply discussing the weather. "I did nothing. The credit is yours."
"You...you must have done something...my hand never did that before!"
"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand," he explained matter-of-factly. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."
"Meaning that it could also close the Breach itself," Cassandra suggested.
"Possibly," the bald man shrugged. Turning back to Ahnnie, he gave her a thoughtful look. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."
She hugged her left hand uncertainly. "I do?"
"Good to know!" a rough voice suddenly exclaimed from behind. Ahnnie whirled around and saw the little man adjusting his gloves, his crossbow resting against his back. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." Striding up to the girl, he confidently introduced himself, "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." He finished with a wink at Cassandra, who scowled in response.
Ahnnie took a step back, intimidated by the sight of his ginger chest hair. His shirt was open along the top, exposing plenty of it. It was a ridiculous thing to fixate on, but she couldn't help staring at his chest. It all seemed skewed, somehow, that he should have such a thick torso and be so short at the same time.
"I know, I know," he chuckled, "I'm just too good to be true. Feel free to look as much as you want; I'm not going anywhere."
She blushed and averted her eyes. "No, I wasn't – I don't – unwelcome tagalong?" she then asked, trying to change the subject.
"Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you," Varric explained.
He is? Why?
"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine," Cassandra cut in before Ahnnie could speak. "Clearly that is no longer necessary."
"Yet here I am; lucky for you, considering the events." He sounded smug.
Cassandra stepped in front of Ahnnie, blocking her view of Varric. "Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated Varric, but–"
"Have you been in the valley, Seeker?" he interrupted. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me."
She paused, silenced by his argument. Then she shook her head and moved away with a disgusted, "Ugh."
"My name is Solas, if there are to be any introductions," the bald man then said, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. "I'm pleased to see you still live."
Ahnnie watched him suspiciously, remembering how he had forced her to close the rift.
"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'," Varric clarified when he saw her look. "You know; back at the prison?"
Her suspicion only deepened. "Did you put it there?"
Solas seemed as unaffected by her accusation as he was by the cold. He did, however, attempt to be gentle. "I understand how things might seem to you. No, I did not put the mark on your–"
"Did Cassandra do it?"
The Seeker whirled around defiantly. "Absolutely not!" she snapped.
"I didn't do it, either," Varric interjected before the girl could get around to asking him. "I'm a prisoner too, remember?"
"Well, how am I supposed to believe any of you?" Ahnnie countered. She didn't mean to, but suddenly everyone she saw became a prime suspect in this strange predicament of hers. As her mind raced with what she had been through, her paranoia gained traction like a speeding train down a steep track. "First, I'm at home and this green light tries to attack my dogs; second, it drops me into some dark place with giant spiders; and then third, I wake up handcuffed in a dungeon and there's this...this thing in my hand...!"
She winced at a sharp sting in her side and clutched it with a gloved hand; the winter wind had driven itself against her wound, sending small snow particles into the exposed skin. All of a sudden, she felt her adrenaline-pumped strength drain away and leave her back in her former position, aching and ailing with a migraine in her head. She slid down to the ground, hugging her bloody side, head hanging down in resignation. Someone just kill me right now, she whimpered, feeling close to tears.
Solas came up to her, his face softening in pity. "Poor child," he murmured, and drew out his staff. Ahnnie flinched as its tip came close to her injured side, but watched with mesmerization as a cool white light began to emanate from it. He chanted a string of foreign words under his breath and the light fluctuated with every intonation. She became aware of a gentle warmth on her wounded side a moment later and felt the torn cloth with a careful hand.
"It's...it's healed," Ahnnie stammered in shock. "You...healed me..."
Solas smiled and drew back his staff. "I know you must be frightened," he began, "but right now, we need your help. Everything will be explained in due time, I promise you." And he held out his hand to her, an encouraging twinkle in his eyes.
She accepted the hand and allowed herself to be pulled back onto her feet. She stayed quiet for a moment, wondering if these strange people were still deserving of her suspicion. Just because one of them healed her miraculously didn't make them any better. Her anger lost much of its edge though, and when she imagined an entire group of people conspiring against her, placing an electric mark in her hand and forcing her to close demonic rifts in the sky, it seemed more than a little impossible. She was just one person and hardly anyone important. What benefit did they stand to gain in endangering her like so? It was kind of random, now that she thought of it.
I guess, for now, they're okay, she decided.
Solas then turned to the Seeker. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I've ever seen. Your prisoner is no mage." His eyes flitted to her briefly before coming back to Cassandra. "Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."
That word again, mage. And magic. Ahnnie was starting to become less skeptical of it, though.
"Understood," Cassandra nodded. "We must get to the forward camp quickly."
"Wait, let me find my sword," Ahnnie said as she scanned the ground for the weapon. She couldn't go unarmed, after all.
"What, that clunky thing?" Varric asked. "No, what you need is a short sword. You looked like a dancing bear wielding that other one!" He pilfered the mentioned blade from a dead soldier's belt, paused, unbuckled the whole belt, and then handed the items to her. "Take his shield while you're at it," he added, and when she did so, he nodded in approval. "There you go. All set."
Varric was right; the short sword was lighter and easier in her hands. Ahnnie sheathed it, tightened the belt across her waist, and strapped the shield, a sturdy circle of wood, onto her wrist.
Without any further ado, Cassandra and Solas went ahead towards a spot to the right that was sectioned off by wooden boards rather than taking the stairs ahead of them. "The road ahead is blocked," Cassandra explained, and she hopped over the wood agilely, Solas following suit.
Varric chuckled as he moved forward. "Well, Bianca's excited!" he remarked.
Ahnnie followed after him slowly, testing the weight of her new items against her steps. "Who's that?" she asked.
"My crossbow."
"Oh."
Cassandra helped the girl over the wood when she seemed reluctant to jump and held her steady to keep her from tumbling down the steep hill path. When Varric joined them a second later, the quartet began their careful descent.
"So, I take it you're not from around here?" Varric asked.
Ahnnie looked up from staring off into space and glanced over at the short man. They had already left the hill behind and were walking down another path, once again alongside an icy river. "No, I'm not," she replied.
"I figured as much." He stared at her thoughtfully. "Your accent doesn't give much away...and your features..."
"Speaking of which, she still has that pallor, Cassandra," Solas remarked to the Seeker. "I thought I told you not to bring her out until she was better?"
"We had no choice," Cassandra argued. "She didn't seem to get any better, and the Breach was getting worse."
Ahnnie looked from Cassandra to Solas. "What? What pallor?"
"Your skin," Solas explained. "Unless you've noticed, it's a pale yellowish tint..."
She frowned. Then it hit her: "Oh, no! No! I'm not pale! Well, maybe a little," she considered as she thought of her wound earlier and the physical misery she'd been through, as well as her mostly indoors lifestyle back home, "but that's actually my natural skin color. I'm Asian."
"Oh...I'm so sorry," Solas apologized when he realized how offensive he sounded. "I meant no harm. But of what nationality is Ay-zhin, if I may ask? I've never heard of it before."
"She mentioned it earlier," Cassandra remarked, "when I asked for her name. She also talked of directors and cameras. Even threatened to sue my 'filming company' for kidnapping charges."
Ahnnie cleared her throat in embarrassment. "Erm, well, um..."
"What're cameras?" Varric asked.
"Do I look like I know?" Cassandra retorted.
Solas nodded as he took this all in. "I see..." Turning back to Ahnnie, he asked, "Care to elaborate?"
She was about to explain, but then frowned again. "You...really don't know what 'Asian' is?"
"I'm afraid not."
Was he serious? Could they really be as ignorant as she thought? When she saw their questioning faces, however, she realized with a sinking feeling that yes, they were. "If you say so..." Thus, rather haltingly, she began, "Asian is a race, from the continent of Asia. It's a blanket term that means people more to the east of Asia, really, 'cause they're the first people to come to mind even though there's plenty of other ethnicities there too...Anyway, East Asians have yellowish skin like me, and black hair, with mostly brown or black eyes...Our features are...uh..."
She scratched the back of her head. "Well, it depends on where you're from. If you're Northeast Asian, like Chinese, Japanese, or Korean...do you know those? No? Okay, well, then your eyes might be more slanted and your features, more...mm...angular. If you're Southeast Asian, like Thai, Cambodian, Laotian, Filipino, Vietnamese, your eyes and features might be rounder. I say 'might' because it's not the same everywhere, but those are the general differences I notice." God, I sound racist.
"You're Southeast?" Solas interjected before she could get to explaining cameras.
"Oh, so you noticed," she chuckled. "Yeah, Southeast. Vietnamese, to be exact."
"And yet, you speak the Common tongue pretty well, for a foreigner," Solas remarked.
"Actually, where I'm from it's called–"
"This doesn't add up," Cassandra interrupted. "There is no continent in Thedas by the name of 'Asia'. And as far as race goes, the only difference seems to be in the skin color and facial features."
Ahnnie frowned. "But isn't it the skin color and facial features that make a race?"
"Elves and dwarves like Solas and Varric classify as races. Having a different skin color does not."
The girl paled as she realized what that meant. "Cassandra...where I come from, there are only humans. No elves or dwarves; just, humans."
The three of them gave her looks that ranged from confusion to disbelief.
"There is no place called 'Thedas' either," she added a moment later.
The resulting silence was unnerving. Even Varric, who'd come across as the most outspoken of the group, did not say a word. Ahnnie wondered if the same thought was running through their heads as was going through hers: Is it possible that I've fallen into a different world entirely?
To be honest, it had been an underlying suspicion of hers ever since she fought her first shade. Coupled with the Breach in the sky and what little she gleaned from Cassandra about the Fade and Veil, she was starting to become a little more convinced that this place wasn't the same as the one she'd come from. And then, in no particular order, Solas healed her with light from his staff (magic? she wondered), there were too many corpses for a coincidence of any sort, and Varric was too proportionate to be a human with the medical condition of dwarfism–
So many things came together, too many factors for her to properly count, and they were slowly convincing her every second of that thought.
Cassandra led the group off the path onto ice, and for once, it wasn't because the path was ending. Rather, she seemed to purposefully make for another stone staircase cut into the side of a hill on the opposite bank. Ahnnie tensed yet again as her boot touched the frozen river, and a hand went to the hilt of her new short sword. So far, nothing. They made it to the first steps safely and began their ascent.
It was here her left hand flared again with crackling energy, making her wince. The pain didn't knock her down as it had before (that much was a relief), but it still made her face twist in discomfort.
"Shit, you all right?" Varric asked in concern.
She nodded, biting down on her lower lip as she pointedly held the marked hand away from her body. "I'm fine," she ground out a moment later.
"That thing must hurt a lot."
"It does..."
They crested the top of the stairs and Cassandra turned left towards even more stairs. Ahnnie heaved a sigh of exasperation as she and the others made their way up. Varric noticed it and chuckled.
"Havin' a tough time?"
"My foot hurts."
"You're not used to a lot of exercise, aren't you?"
She blinked. "How'd you know?"
"You've worked up quite a sweat where Cassandra hasn't broken any, for one. And yes, you're pale."
Ahnnie smiled dryly. "I guess. I spent a lot of my time back home doing things like reading and drawing. I never really did all this..." She gestured vaguely at the weapon in her belt.
The dwarf nodded thoughtfully. "Say, I never got your name," Varric pointed out a moment later.
"Really?"
"Nope."
Well, she had to remedy that, didn't she? She basically told him what she'd told Cassandra, giving him the pronunciation of her real name and explaining why she used her nickname. He readily accepted it without complaint, agreeing that Ahnnie was easier on the tongue. Solas, however, was keen to hear the exact pronunciation of the real name.
"Say it again, please," he asked her.
She complied, although she didn't see how it would be useful to him especially since Varric and Cassandra had trouble with it.
The elf paused a moment, as if to register the sounds. Then, a few moments later, he said, "Diễm Anh," almost as perfectly as though he were a native.
Ahnnie had not expected that, as her gaping mouth indicated. Solas chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "It is a simple dip and rise of the vocal cords," he said. "One must be willing to be more flexible in the throat." He rubbed the middle of his neck to show them.
"That's...that's exactly how it is," Ahnnie gasped. "You're good, Solas."
"Nothing keen observation can't do."
"Ah, show-off," Varric snorted.
They came to the top of the stairs and Ahnnie was pleased to notice that her banter with the dwarf and the elf had mostly taken her mind off her pain. Still, she wondered how much farther they had to go. All this walking reminded her of why cars were invented in the first place.
"We're almost there," Solas remarked as he looked about him.
Cassandra took in the burning wagons and black scorch marks in the dirt with a grim eye. There were also a few specks in the distance that Ahnnie suspected were burning bodies and she quickly used her scarf to cover her nose.
Suddenly, Varric gave a warning cry and whipped out Bianca; a second later, an arrow was launched into the head of a shade they hadn't seen amongst the burning rubble.
When the demon died, Cassandra shook her head. "I hope Leliana made through all this."
"She's resourceful, Seeker," Varric assured her as he replaced Bianca on his back.
"Leliana?" Ahnnie asked. "Is that the lady with the purple hood?"
Cassandra nodded. "Yes. She–"
A bloodcurdling scream cut through the air. It came from a distance, down the path to the south.
The quartet quickened their pace. Even Ahnnie did her best to keep up, worried as she was. She felt a little safer knowing more people were part of the group. The farther they went, the more they could hear the faraway sounds of conflict. Soon they came up to a short set of stone stairs beneath an overhanging rock and Ahnnie's mark vibrated again. Cassandra bounded up the steps first and confirmed the girl's suspicions when she yelled, "Another rift!"
When Ahnnie reached the last step, she saw the rift for herself, hanging above two soldiers who were backing up against a gate, two shades and two wraiths cornering them. A third soldier lay face down on the ground, dark blood splattered on the snow beneath him.
"They keep coming!" one of the soldiers cried. "Help us!"
"Help is on the way," Varric exclaimed as he aimed Bianca. Cassandra ran out to attack one of the shades and Solas brandished his staff. As the elf twirled his weapon in the air, bolts of ice shot out from the tip, freezing a shade from the bottom down. It jerked fruitlessly against the ice and received a new scar from Cassandra.
Ahnnie froze before the scene, unsure of what to do. Then she saw the green wraiths spewing their magic balls, one of which briefly hit Varric, and drew up her shield. Let's hope this works, she thought as she made her steady charge, for this was the first time she was initiating any action without being forced or told to. When she came close to a wraith, she ducked out of her shield and swiped her blade at it. She did the same tip-slice thing that Cassandra taught her, assuming from the shape of the short sword that it was no different from the bigger one.
The wraith fell back and she assailed it with quicker movements. Thanks to Solas' magic, she was able to move without the constraint of the wounds. This wraith was a little tougher than the one she fought before, putting up more of a fight and not dissipating when she expected it to, but after taking enough of her swipes and stabs, it poofed away into nothing.
I think the key is to disrupt its shape as much as possible, the girl thought as she made her way to the next wraith. These things aren't very smart – she'd noticed that too with the shades, that the demons seemed to focus more on simply hitting without much thought to strategy – so as long as I'm quick about it, it should be over with soon.
She tested out that theory by not only slicing at the next wraith but also 'bashing' it with her shield. Following up with a few quick sword strikes, the wispy creature was soon defeated, and Ahnnie felt a sense of accomplishment upon figuring out the secret to destroying one of these monsters more easily.
"Hurry!" Solas suddenly called out to her. "Use the mark!"
Ahnnie whirled around and saw that the shades were dead. "O-oh, coming!" She sheathed her sword and headed up to the rift. Okay, here goes nothing. With a cursory flex of her left hand and a steadying breath, she raised it up towards the rift...
...and after enduring that strange pulling sensation as a beam from her hand connected with the rift for about thirty seconds, it exploded and was no more.
The girl fell back onto her bum, not yet able to keep her balance against the momentum. But she'd done it; she not only took down two wraiths on her own, she'd just sealed a rift on her own too. She realized with a little bit of embarrassment that Solas didn't exactly have to hold her hand up; the sensation had been startling at first, but once she knew what was going to happen, it felt a little funny and nothing more. A tiny bit numb, and then ticklish as her nerves regained their senses. She would take it any day over a flare, that was for sure.
Solas rushed over to her, holding her up by the arm. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she breathed. "It just kind of...blew me away." She turned her head toward the gate, hoping that the remaining two soldiers had made it, and noticed them staring at her wide-eyed.
"The rift is gone," Cassandra reminded them. "Open the gate!"
One of them blinked for several more seconds before scrambling to do as she ordered. "Right away, Lady Cassandra!"
As they pushed at the gates, Varric came up to Ahnnie, gesturing with his head at her hand. "Whatever that thing on your hand is, it sure is useful."
"Indeed," Solas agreed, smiling at her. "Well done."
Ahnnie supposed she could spare a small smile back. "Thanks," she said timidly, and began to rub the feeling back into her left hand. She chanced a small look at her palm as she did so and noticed a large green slash in the skin, as though she'd been wounded but nature gave it the wrong color. It slanted in a decline starting at the base of her pinky, ending at the bottom of her thumb.
She was startled by a rough touch on her shoulder and looked up to see Cassandra. "Come along," the woman urged her. "We are at the forward camp now."
"Forward...?" Ahnnie looked at the open gate and the bridge it opened up to. "Oh! So that's it!" She mentally laughed at herself when she noticed the others had already gone through. "Right, I'm coming!"
A/N: Now that it's established that Ahnnie is of Southeast Asian descent, and there are no similar people in Thedas: there will be remarks made from other characters about her appearance that might come across as offensive to some. But know that I am simply writing what I think would be accurate reactions from a group of people who have never seen an East-ish Asian before.