Panic's Note: Alright, so chapter 3! Let me begin with a gracious thanks to those who have followed, favorite, and reviewed this fiction. It may sound horribly clichéd and maybe a bit misplaced, but you all have kept the flame alive for this idea of mine. I'm glad to see it through with all of the support. So, truly my writer's heart goes out to all of you.
This chapter has been a bit of a challenge for me and I apologize for the delay in update. It has now been rewritten four times in order to really nail character, tone, and compliance to the series. The plot twist that fueled this fiction is going to be partially introduced here. So, either I'll shoot myself in the foot and ever so slowly bleed out, or I'll keep the interest alive!
Chapter 3: Between Life and Death
White streaked about the shadowed mountain scape in a dizzying rush that zigged, zagged, and darted into view. The small flecks of snow moved in an erratic and undefined path. Each tiny piece worked to fuel the approaching storm. Yet, it all started as chilled ice carried on a continuous wind. That chilled ice with its directionless path was a warning and a start. The dizzying blurs of white were the single signal to nature's intent.
Evelyn found herself watching the snow as a parallel to Corypheus. Memories of the conclave with its collection of templars and mages shifted in a haze with each attempt she made at finding a warning sign. At some point she had come to rest on this task. Attempted recall in memory proved a good distraction from the position the Inquisition was in after two days of traveling under her direction.
Platinum blonde hair glinted in the dull night's light as she shook her head slightly. The drift to her poor leadership claimed her thoughts, yet was quickly forced aside with the introduction of the vague politics and societal commentary that surrounded the conclave. It amounted to nothing more than jumbled voices followed by many sheets of parchment that offered little more to her than a slight understanding of the why. Of course, she knew she was really looking for something out of place that could make sense of the violent tear in the veil that produced the rift.
Tired and unfocused eyes pulled away from the weather to fall on her gloved left hand. The result of the mysterious key that was overlooked and should've been stopped had resulted in this demonic anchor, which was largely to blame for her push into leadership. Power alone was the deciding factor of the movement that followed her. The belief that supported it and backed her was even more impossible to bear. She wanted and needed, someone or even something, to blame.
Again, she found herself absently shaking her head in dismissal of the thought. Her body screamed at her to return to the camp; while her mind ran in a blinding circle between memories of the conclave and her fight against leadership. The harsh pings of a headache pierced through the mess as she reached an icy hand to rub at her temples. She knew she needed to rest, but the idea of brushing against the fade prevented that.
Larger flakes of snow accompanied a stronger gust that startled her back to the external world, while she ducked her chin into thick folds of fur. The brittle brush of the fur and faint scent of Cullen drifted into her senses tugging at her exhausted mind. It forced her gaze back to the makeshift camp at her rear.
A part of her jumped at the thought that she could easily blame him for her current troubles. In fact, he was the one that had demanded she fight. If it had been up to her she would have gladly accepted death and maybe would've even sought it out. Yet, he had asked her to fight and unwilling she had listened if not found strength in his words. Her gaze came to rest on the commander with narrowed eyes.
His broad shoulders were hunched and head tilted down at a table, while he paced beside it. Sleep also seemed a loss to the commander. She watched as his shoulders gave a tight jump and pacing faltered before starting up again. At once her eyes softened and she sighed. He wasn't to blame, but was fighting himself. The shift in mind left a perplexed look on her features. It occurred to her suddenly that perhaps she couldn't even be trusted with her own thoughts as she turned her attention back to the darkness.
Evelyn's body felt oddly weightless within the darkness. Slowly, the weightless feeling was accompanied by slight dips leaving the faint impression of gliding on a weathered wind. Gliding gave way to a gentle pressure against her back and at her knees. Slight warmth seemed to radiate from her side as the pressure branched out along it. A rise and fall joined it and the darkness fell away.
"It's only me." A familiarly deep voice soothed. She couldn't place if she was awake or asleep. Her mind jumped uselessly from one thought to the next, but remained lost within its own depth. Finally, she came to rest in light touched brown eyes.
A splash of light crossed her closed eyelids, while something tugged roughly at her foot. The archer jolted into a sitting position as she groped blindly about for her dagger. Her eyes scanned quickly around her surroundings in an attempt to figure out just what had caused the rude awakening. Cool steel met her right hand just as her eyes found Sera.
"You're a might bit jumpy one." Sera teased from the gap in leather hides that marked the entrance to the tent. "Seems they're antsy to leave." She added, tossing a look over her shoulder. "Might want ta get movin'." Evelyn stared blankly at the elf that wore a mischievous grin and exited with a short giggle.
She shook her head warily and released the breath she couldn't recall holding. Reverberating pain echoed off the walls of her head announcing the return of her headache from the night before. Her focus came to rest on the thick fur that lay in her lap and stretching fabric that covered her legs. A second jolt tore across her tired body at the sudden realization that she was no longer on the ledge.
The headache intensified at the mere thought of trying to sort through what little would explain her current position. She hadn't even noticed falling asleep upon the ledge much less what brought her to wake up here. A wince graced her features as she shook her head hoping to clear it. Slowly, she replaced the cloak at her back and grabbed her bow, quiver, and daggers.
"The Herald emerged from her tent with strength written fiercely across her face. Not even the ice packed slopes and traitorous ridges could stand in defiance of her. With a single look she rallied the forces-" Varric's rough voice greeted her as she raised a hand to block out the offending sunlight. "Uh, ya'know, I may be over embellishing some here, but you get the general idea." He continued, while she shifted her gaze over the party gathered by a smothered fire pit.
"Do you always make such dreadfully forgiving observations?" Vivienne scoffed at Varric, turning a haughty look on Evelyn. "You have clearly seen better days, my dear"
"Fancy a rougher description, myself." Sera chimed in with a wide grin. "'Course, rough suits most things, especially some things." She added seeming to slip off into a tangent of thought.
"Brave souls," Iron Bull added, leaning carelessly against his ax. "I made a comment on womanly looks once, damn near killed me."
"Tis unfortunate it didn't." Vivienne countered, sending the quirk of a disgusted look in the qunari's direction.
"Heh, unfortunate, maybe. I got a nasty scar to show for it." A ghost of a smirk marked Iron Bull's scarred face. "I'd be more than happy to show you."
"Right, because we all want you to start disclosing the finer details surrounding all of your scars." Dorian interjected with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "The start to a grand day already, I see."
Evelyn watched the banter with limited interest as she tried to shake the pull of her resurfacing thoughts and the doubts that powered them. She was determined to keep her mind in the present long enough to lead the Inquisition through the day. Yet, the notion of leading brought with it the same sinking in willpower and longing to shift blame that had consumed her hours ago.
"If I may have a word?"Solas's voice gained her strained attention as she shifted her gaze to him and the curt nod he gave to the edge of camp. She gave a weak nod in return, moving to follow him. "I trust you slept decently?" He asked lightly, stepping away from the people working to pack away the camp.
"I suppose so, although I do not recall actually sleeping." She offered weakly, quirking a brow at his question. The details surrounding sleep and the expanse of darkness that seemed to cover it jumped to mind, but the welcoming depth in light touched brown eyes quickly took over.
"You did not touch the fade." Solas observed, while Evelyn shook her head to clear the sudden image of Cullen from her mind. "Neither did the commander." Solas added, slightly shaking his head. "I fear I am no closer to understanding the connection or its purpose." The apostate clasped his hands at his back as he came to a stop on the ledge.
"Does this rule sleep out?" Evelyn asked, stopping beside him and closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to shut down her vague memories from the night before.
"If Cullen would sleep than perhaps it could." Solas replied with another shake of his head. "Although, the act of sleeping alone seems an unlikely trigger." He turned his attention to Evelyn before asking, "You are troubled?"
Evelyn bought time with a weak shake of her head as she opened her eyes to let reality back in. The fade was a subject she didn't want to discuss or explore in any depth. It was hard enough to see through her dragging mind without throwing the fade into the mix. "It has been a lot to take in, but I am handling it." She replied, quickly averting her eyes to the distant mountains.
"It is no feat to hide in thought." Solas stated cryptically, not pressing the matter as he continued, "Our destination lays to the east. If we are fortunate we will see sight of it by nightfall."
Evelyn tried her best to see through the clouds that blocked her view to the east. Solas's statement called forth the thoughts she had tried so desperately to push down and ignore in light of the journey ahead. There was no time to pause and dig deeper into them, yet she found one thing pushing wildly to the forefront. "Did I have the right to choose the templars over the mages?" She blurted out before she could think better of it.
"It was a decision made in haste and one that was done, I feel, with little actual thought." Solas replied, following her gaze out into the distance. "Whether it was right or wrong has yet to be seen." He added, giving pause to think. "Although, I can understand the lure of restoring even the slightest semblance of order. It is familiar and perhaps safe."
"What if I have, single handedly, condemned mages?" She echoed her doubt hollowly; letting one question pass seemed to break the silence that had tormented her mind. If Solas would listen then she wanted nothing more than to tell.
"As an apostate I can only attest to mages existing outside of oppression. One act cannot condemn-" Solas began, but was quickly cut off by Evelyn.
"But did I have the right to choose it?" She shook her head, tearing her gaze away from the horizon and turning it on Solas. "No single person should be given such power much less that person being me."
"Yet sometimes it takes a single person to make the decisions others could not." Solas gave her a short nod as he met her piercing eyes.
"I did not ask to be that single person." She spat back, fiercely trying to make at least one person truly understand her doubts.
"One rarely asks for what they are dealt." Solas stated evenly, turning his gaze back to the deconstructed camp. "You may doubt your abilities in choice, but you still stand where as others would have fallen." He turned his attention back to her. "Time unfolds the mind. The advisers will require a direction, to the east." He offered in dismissal before moving to rejoin the Inquisition.
Evelyn stared in a state of partial confusion at Solas's retreating form. The conversation had given her the chance to say so much, yet she had only admitted so little. Her mind tried to absorb his words and find something worth clinging to as she forced herself to approach the advisers at the head of the Inquisition.
"I do hope you have more than a line of scribble to share with us." Josephine stated with a note of annoyance in her voice as Evelyn came within hearing range of the advisers.
"It is not scribble," Leliana retorted, holding a piece of parchment in her hand. "All messages I've received from my men have proven more the useful. We would be wise to heed its warning."
"Scribble or no, if it is relevant then please do share it." Cassandra snapped impatiently with crossed arms.
It was easy to see the anxiety that hovered between the three as Evelyn came to a stop among them. Her eyes traveled over Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine before coming to rest on Cullen. A crease of concern formed on her features as she noted the sudden spasm that rattled his shoulder and a tension that followed it. This seemed worse the slight jump she'd noticed the night before.
"Nothing suggests that we are moving in a direction or path that offers substantial shelter." Leliana's voice interrupted Evelyn's focus on Cullen. "Perhaps we should cross back into Ferelden." She offered with a shake of her head.
"Our supplies are far too low to support that." Cassandra sighed, turning her attention on Evelyn. "I do hope you have a better course for direction, herald. We have very little left to waste."
"East." Evelyn offered with a gesture towards the ledge and clouded mountain range beyond it. "We travel towards the east. Nightfall should deliver us some hope." She reiterated, forcing out the amount of confidence that would back her assertions.
"Calling to the aide of nobles would offer more than this blind trek into these mountains." Josephine countered, a sliver of resentment lining her tone. "We may all very well die in this unmakerly snow."
"No one is dying," Evelyn all but blurted out with a sharp glare at Josephine. The last thing she wanted to entertain was leading more people to their deaths.
"We travel towards the east." Cullen finally spoke, his tone lacking its usual depth. Evelyn turned her eyes back on the tensed, yet carefully composed commander as he lifted his gaze to exchange looks with all of them. "If we want the herald to lead, then we must allow her to do just that." Gray circles outlined his tired eyes as they finally came to rest on her. "We keep moving."
For the first time Evelyn found herself staring back into hollow eyes. The usual comfort that followed his returned gaze was missing. It had once been an exchange that pushed her to fight and worked as an unspoken support. She found herself longing for the strength now gone from it. Discomfort seemed to sharpen at the edge of his eyes as the crease momentarily deepened on his forehead. Without another word he turned his attention back to the soldiers.
"I want to trust in your leadership, herald." Cassandra admitted, pulling Evelyn's focus back to the other advisers. "We'll revisit this come nightfall." She added with a gesture towards the remainder of the Inquisition.
Hours stretched by under the taxing path east. Steep slopes and sleek ice caused a pause in their travels more than once. All thoughts that had tried to reinvade her mind were soon forgotten as Evelyn did her best to lead through the mountain's terrain. Strained muscles dragged her over another slope leading down towards a line of trees. Packed snow reached up to the middle of her shins as she came to a stop and turned her gaze back to the Inquisition. The company stretched below her in a staggered collection of survivors, soldiers, and wary transport.
Her attention shifted back to the hazy outlined mountain range ahead. The broad light marked midday and still nothing showed against it. She shook her head before forcing herself to keep moving. Walking ahead of the Inquisition seemed both an act and weak demonstration of her ability to lead. Numb feet sunk into the snow as she began to descend the slope.
"Ah, yes, I remember now, this is why I dislike snow…and mountains for that matter." Dorian announced in feigned excitement from a slight distance.
"Watch your step," Evelyn cautioned with a quick glance over her shoulder to the companions that had gained ground on her.
"Varric, one. Mountain range, zero." The dwarf cheered as he managed to stumble out of falling. "Seems my ancestry does help me out after all."
Evelyn turned her attention back to the harsh white ground and the jutting rocks that hid from view beneath it. The idea of joining into a conversation seemed nothing short of exhausting. At that, she doubted she could even maintain one in her current state. It was proving challenging enough managing the simple task of walking. However, her wary attention was soon captured by the sight of a wide brimmed hat flared awkwardly above a slender frame.
"Red. Blood red. That digs and sinks." Cole muttered, with his body facing towards the trees. Her pulse jumped as she heard his words. "It burns and scorches. Driving down into flesh." He continued in a toneless voice. "Red that twists and taints. Unholy and unconstrained."
"Cole?" Evelyn breathed out, taking a few cautious steps closer to view the expressionless profile of the eerie boy.
"Ruin. It is all in ruin." His pale blue eyes stared blankly into the trees. "Red that rips and seeps. Destructive and deadly." She could faintly hear her pulse skyrocket within her ears. His words seemed to bring life to a vivid description of something painfully real. "He wants to die, yet he calls to you." The statement sent a chill down her spine as Cole turned his lifeless eyes on her. "I do not understand," he concluded with a tilt of his head that went unnoticed by the archer.
Feet slammed into the ground, while worn muscles screamed in protest. Her pulse soared even higher as she hurtled into the tree line. Thick snow dusted trunks were dodged and roughly brushed in her wake. She didn't know what she was running towards, but something in her gut pushed her forward. Cole's last statement looped in a sickening echo through her mind.
Evelyn threw herself through a tangle of brittle branches and came to a stumbled stop. Her eyes locked on the form of a kneeling man. His pauldrons and blonde hair glinted against the splotches of light falling through the trees. Broad shoulders held rigid leading into a stiff back. The posture he was holding was a direct demonstration of Templar training. She felt her bow and arrow bounce mindlessly off her leg at the realization of the man before her, Cullen
The slight hiss and faint swish of cloth dragging over snow pulled her attention to a shade. Its claws rattled uselessly against the man's armor as it warily tried to attack him. Branching and jagged cracks of red traveled between them. Her eyes shifted to the sword buried within the snow. A glistening stream of what she could only assume was blood coated the pummel and trailed along the center of the blade.
Red started to fall into the cracked shadows as the commander faltered. His tense form sagged before pulling back up. Another flicker traveled along the jagged path, while he fought to keep control. A louder hiss from the shade accompanied the forceful clink of claws biting down on metal.
Quickly, Evelyn retrained her bow and arrow before sinking an arrow into the shade. A wail echoed from its dark depths and it swiveled to pursue her. Two more arrows zipped through the chilled air and sunk into the target. She narrowed her eyes at the creature and lined up a final shot that sent the shade into a heap on the forest's floor.
Deep blue eyes drifted back to Cullen. His sword had fallen to rest in the cracked snow before him, while he sat staring blankly in its wake. His right hand shone with the smeared red of his blood as it gripped into his thigh. She stared at him blankly, while her mind tried to figure out exactly what she'd just witnessed. The observations of Solas, mutterings of Cole, sudden changes in behavior as well as appearance, and red energy exuded from Cullen offered nothing more than an endless line of questions.
"C-cullen?" She breathed out, realizing that he either had not noticed her or was choosing to ignore her presence. Soft crunches of snow created the only noise around them as she took a few timid steps towards him.
"You're not supposed to be here." He answered in a strained tone, while his face gave a visible wince at having to speak. A gripping worry started to pull at her features as a rush of cold coursed through her veins.
"What," She began in confusion. "How did you?" She tried weakly, her attention flitting to the shadowed cracks outlining his fallen sword. "Are there others?" She asked, turning her gaze to the surrounding trees almost willing the reason for all of this to charge out from its depth.
"I want you," Cullen began with another wince. "Here. But I cannot. You," He paused again as he sucked in a shallow breath. Tension was etched into his chiseled features. "You shouldn't be here." He reiterated with a slight shake of his head.
"What do you mean?" She asked in utter confusion. Her eyes roamed desperately over the fallen commander trying to find the source for his jarring behavior and stance. She could not will herself to accept that Cullen was breaking down. The blood soaked hand caught her lingering attention as she vaguely recalled his caution with it in the tunnels.
"I cannot protect you," He stated, a slight edge to his eyes joined the crease at his forehead. "Or the Inquisition." He seemed to correct himself, given a tiny jump in tone that rewarded him another harsh wince. "It is not," He paused, searching for the right words. "I am not safe."
"Cullen you're not," Evelyn shook her head, taking another step towards him. The closer she got the easier it was to see the tension that still coursed through him even in his slumped position. "This doesn't," She tried hopelessly to find the right words to express her concern. Once again she tried to place the bleeding hand into the puzzle, yet nothing she imagined came to this. "Help me understand. " She added, her tone edged with desperation as she tried to force away the sudden thought of losing him.
The feel of something other than snow beneath her foot and the soft crunch that followed it forced Evelyn into an unsettling silence as her focus fell to the ground. Shards of a broken clay container stood out against the snow, yet the off-blue compound that shone within the pieces gained her full attention. Her breath caught as she stooped to examine it.
"Is this lyrium?" She asked quietly, absently rubbing the compound between her gloved fingers. The vague purpose and known importance it held to templars worked its way into the growing puzzle as she turned worried eyes on Cullen. "What are you doing?"
"I could not reasonably command if everything came back to lyrium." He replied in a detached tone, his eyes still stared blankly ahead. "I relied on it and the Inquisition required my complete focus." He gave a slight shake of his head in an effort to gain clarity. "I was, and still am, no longer a Templar. The practices of such didn't need to follow me." He added as an afterthought. "But I," His tone dropped warily. "I failed."
"Did you intend to die out here?" Evelyn blurted out with the sudden connection of the lyrium container, attacking shade, and Cole's haunting words. It seemed to paint a realistic image of a consuming withdrawal in her mind.
"I-I thought I could overcome this," He stammered in response to her forward question. "If I could just hold onto something, anything," He paused dragging in another shallow breath in an attempt to find words. "You," he muttered in a weak confession with a small pause. "I just," He started, a new tension lining his strained tone. "I needed focus," He admitted as his head bowed to his chest. "Perhaps it was wrong of me and for that I am sorry." His features pulled with another wince, while he seemed to fall further away from the man Evelyn had come to trust in.
"Cullen, you're not." She tried; a frustration locked in desperation highlighted her sigh.
"If this is what I think," He continued, not seeming to take note of her plea. The lines on his face deepened as his eyes closed. "I have seen it, felt it, before." He added, with tired shake of his head. "You cannot afford to trust me anymore, which is why you should not be here."
Blood shot light touched brown eyes finally shifted to meet deep blue. Flickers of sorrow and pain combined with confusion and terror seemed to drift across his wary gaze. Evelyn held it with a mixture of misery and confusion. The slight change she'd noticed earlier didn't mark an end like this.
"I refuse to accept that," She stated simply. Her eyes narrowed at his slight display of something bordering on fear. "Whatever it is you think you know-"
"Please, Evelyn!" he interrupted, the edges of his biting command forced into his strained tone. "Just, just go back to the Inquisition," He ordered his tone dropping with each word. "Tell Cassandra I have-"
"Do you remember when you asked me to fight?" She asked over his instruction in an attempt to pull him away from whatever end he was seeking. "To see this through?" She continued, a power igniting within her voice. "This," She stated with an exaggerated gesture towards him. "This is not you." She bit out fiercely.
"I have tried to," he countered as what little color remained in his face drained with her words. "I wanted to fight and I have been." He paused, wincing against an unseen pain. "But this is," his right hand trembled as he gripped it tighter to his leg. A tinge of red dusted around it faintly. "I was selfish, dangerously selfish" he breathed out. "I am not strong enough."
"Cullen, what are you even saying?" Evelyn asked frantically, overlooking the hand. "This," She threw a wild gesture about them and sighed. "This does not make any sense." Even if he was going through withdrawal it shouldn't cross into this lethal territory. The emotionless words of Cole seemed to run on repeat in her mind as it collided with the new facts. None of it was adding up. "If you want me to continue fighting then you must too." She added in a bribe, hoping it would bring some sense back to Cullen.
"Forgive me," He muttered, staggering to his feet suddenly. A saturated patch of blood stained his pants where his right hand had been. "I am not thinking-"He stammered, taking an unsteady step away from her. "I just-"He shook his head as a frantic look broke across his features. "I need a moment," he breathed out, giving Evelyn something of a desperate yet cautioning look.
"Cullen," She called, hurrying to follow him. "Don't walk aw-"
Her words caught in her throat as she grabbed his bloody hand to still his movements. A sudden surge of power flowed from her demonic anchor at the contact, while Cullen released a sharp hiss of pain. Deep blue eyes widened at the faint tint of red that flickered around his hand.
"Please. Maker, please forgive me." Cullen forced through clenched teeth as his knees buckled in response to the pain.
His legs skidded into the snow exposing the palm and source of his pain as well as jumbled words. Evelyn held a loose grip on it as her eyes stared down in horror. A cruel sharp edged pattern dug into the skin almost mimicking a twisted scar. Yet, the lighter strings of his tendons and deep grains of flesh oozing bright red blood brought life to the crude embedded symbol. She could feel the burn of bile at the back of her throat as she dropped her hold. Her eyes flitted to the green emblazed demonic anchor which bore a similar symbol before her eyes fell back on Cullen.
"No," She muttered in a miserable understanding.
Reviews would be lovely and wonderful with a nice dose of highly appreciated at this point.
See you all in Chapter 4! :)