Today, I had to try on wedding dresses and listen to criticism for about 4 hours straight. I. Am. Exhausted.
The world shifted around her as she left the town of Haven behind, sensing her way through the world by the feel of Solas's magic. She dug in deep into her mana extending her movement towards the temple. She felt his magic shift and fade as she made it up the hill, her feet stopping as she suddenly stopped. Her feet stumbled as she tried to slow herself down from the fade step.
Solas stood there, his back against the tree as he watched her stumble by. A smirk spread across his lips as she stumbled by trying not to laugh. She had finally made it to a halt, looking over at the smirking elf.
"You find something funny?" She asked, patting herself down, she rarely ever used fade step, and it seemed she was out of practice.
Solas shook his head, trying to suppress his laughter some more. "No Vhenan, just bemused."
"We never fade stepped in The Circle. Too confined." She faced Solas, as he stared out over the remnants of the Temple. The Breach still filled the sky with an unnatural green, the demons had left, but they could both feel the veil at it's thinnest here.
Solas reached his hand out, grasping hers in his hand, "The veil is thin here, thin enough to walk through history if you still wish."
Anara smiled, looking over the land, "I wish to see this before the explosion, as the Hero of Ferelden did."
Solas nodded, pulling her down to the ground as he sat, his legs crossed. She looked him over, mimicking his stance, his hands outreached to her, "Empty your mind Vhenan, and hold my hands, and we shall see the echo of history through their eyes."
His eyes slowly closed as his breathing evened out, slow and steady as he walked through the veil into the fade's steps of the past.
Anara regained her curiosity, wondering what sorts of magic he learned while wandering the world that allowed him such access to the past. She breathed deep, her eyes closing as her hands reached for his.
Their skin touched, like a jolt of lightning running through them as her mind synced with his, joining him in history, through the eyes of the Hero of Ferelden and Queen.
Her eyes adjusted to the blasted ground around them, her hands felt calloused and strong. She looked down at the daggers in her hands, and felt the heavy mail that she wore. She felt burdensome and heavy, like she was dragging behind everyone. But it seemed that everyone was in stride with her.
Anara turned to look at the group, seeing the King of Ferelden beside her, a gentle smile on his face as they walked. His shield in his hand as his armor seemed to shine in the light, he was something out of legend, out of books told to little girls. A man girls and women dreamed to swoon over and marry. A king in the making.
She saw an elderly woman, a mage just like her, her age not taking away her determination and strength as she moved with grace at the back of the group. She could sense her magic, as if she left a residual mark on the place, like she had been touched by something beyond the physical.
Lastly she looked over, a bard..With red hair and a thick Orlesian accent, she heard her speak, talk of Andraste and the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Leliana? Her Spymaster? She was younger, 10 years to be precise, her attitude was more jovial and devout still speaking of The Maker as they made their approach.
She heard a roar echo through the mountains as a dragon flew high above them. Making it's way to the top, resting it's head on the edge as if to overlook the whole area.
Anara felt a panic freeze up inside of her as she felt her body move. She didn't want to move, didn't actually move. But through the eyes of the Hero of Ferelden she would learn to put fear behind her.
Her movements were quick but thought out as she made her way across the land, a vast empty dead space in between the bridge and the temple.
The land was gray, blasted with scorch marks from the dragon above. There were ruins in the distance, columns and arches left to an empty world filled with ash and smoke.
She heard her party chatter behind her as she made her way across, disregarding the slower way across the land, dragon or no dragon, she had somewhere to go. The older woman was concerned about it's appetite, noting it would prefer younger, fresher meat to her "stringy" bones.
She felt her hands press against the door, taking her breaths as she prepared to open it. She looked back on the party behind her, their blades and staves up in defense for what awaited them. Alistair gave a nod, letting her know that they were all prepared for what laid ahead.
The door opened, and they were met with darkness of the temple. It's statues blank and weathered, holding forever as a testament to time. They continued forward as the hall opened up, a figure standing at the end towards the door.
"Hold.." She spoke as she looked ahead of the group, uncertain if they were friend or foe.
He stood there in full armor, with no weapon in his hand it reassured them as they walked forward. He made no move, had no aggression but instead welcomed them with ease, " I bid you welcome, Pilgrim."
Pilgrim? Anara thought to herself, but had no way to speak she could only live vicariously through The Hero as she spoke, " You must be the guardian?"
" Yes, I am the guardian of the Ashes." His voice rang through the room, eerie and cold. Like all things regarding Ferelden...Well, not all things.
He spoke of the Imperium and it's effects on the world, of his brethren that had forgotten their promise to Andraste and had turned away from their duty. He had spoke of countless centuries waiting for others to come, to be in the presence of Andraste.
She listened to the figure speak of The Hero Ellandra's past, of the path she had taken to get here. Of the pain that swelled inside of it, of the suffering of others.
She could feel her eyes burning, the feel of tears beginning to form at the mention of her parents. The Couslands. She could feel her jaw clench and her eyebrows furrow in pain as she relived the memory of how she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens.
Anara became lost in the thoughts of Ellandra's mind, and the history that she now shared with The Hero.
She heard Alistair speak, his words trying to remain comforting to her, in yet standing tall against adversity.
But in his strength he crumbled to his own self doubt, Alistair bowed his head in defeat, knowing well what the spirit knew within all their hearts. He spoke to Leliana, tearing down her faith slowly in her own self doubt. Telling her the maker has all but gone. Anara wondered if this was the moment she changed, that Leliana began her road to become Spymaster and left hand of the divine.
The door opened to them as they made their way to the trials, finding their way to the urn of sacred Ashes. She felt the rush of the spirits that filled the riddles within the hall fly past, merging with the door, allowing them access further into the temple. Anara was in wide eyed wonder at the world around her, of the magic that filled and flowed within this ancient place.
She could feel her heart stop as they walked through the door, the figure of a man before them. She could feel tears forming in her eyes as she gazed upon the person in front of her. Father? she heard a whisper within as her stomach clenched and her muscles tensed.
" My dearest child…" Her breath began to quicken as he spoke to her.
"Father?" she spoke, her voice cracking as tried to regain herself in this moment. Tears welled up as he spoke to her again,
" You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back.."
She could sense Alistair beside her, his arm wanting to touch her shoulder in comfort. Tears began to streak across her face, mixing with the dirt covered her face.
"No more must you grieve pup, take the pain and guilt and acknowledge it, and let go. It is time."
She could feel her throat choke up as she wanted to speak, wanted to scream and howl in pain, but held herself back if only for his words. " You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared. And so I leave this in your hands..I know you will do great things with it.."
With that, his visage disappeared, leaving only an empty hole in her heart, and pain in it's wake. She cried out in pain, her knees giving in as she fell to the ground, her head slumping over as she cried, fingers digging into the exposed earth.
Alistair leaned down, his arm on her shoulder, trying to end her pain. "Ellandra.." His voice came out soothing, and warm, like the gentle touch on her shoulder. He tried to talk through to her, to mend her sore and broken heart. His hand pulled her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his, as his thumb wiped away the tears staining her cheeks. "Ella. It is time to move on.." Alistair pressed his temple against hers as she held back more tears.
His arms rested on hers, bringing her in and calming her, the sweetest and gentlest words upon his lips. With promises of a better tomorrow.
There was a flash, a blinding searing pain that shot through her as her mind filled with a distant memory.
There she stood at the shores of Lake Calenhad, her eyes looking over a tower that stood in the middle, the moonlight silhouette across the lake. The sounds of the lapping waters and distant sound of a tavern. She stared at the single boat, slowly rowing across the waters to the towers shores.
She felt the burn of fire as she stood there in a hallway, smoke and demons filled the rooms, mages fighting with Templars, with each other. Smoke and blood filled the air, the scent unwavering. She could hear abominations march through the halls, and desire demons prey on the weak. This memory, seemed all too real of what could've happened in Ostwick if she kept to her unruliness.
She felt a chill cover her body as she stood at the stairs near the top. Knowing the heat that enveloped them would keep the chill at bay, but her eyes wandered helplessly through the room. The tower was blighted, filled with pustules and flesh, like it was a breathing but dying creature. Infected and left to rot within itself, she heard a voice. Tired, and tortured, still fighting for his very last breath, a voice all too familiar.
"Commander?" Her eyes drifted across the room, to the sight of him on the floor, his hands up in prayer. She watched him fight, his mind trying to stay strong as Ellandra tried to comfort him, speaking softly the words of The Maker.
But he was stuck, trapped in his cage, in his torture, cursing and fighting like an animal with it's leg caught in a trap. He shouted and cursed, spouting hatred for mages, of blood magic and demons. Pointing accusing fingers and spiteful glances at the mage with Ellandra. He hated them, hated mages, blamed them for his pain and suffering. For his loss, for everything.
Anara was taken aback, her heart lurching in pain at the sight of him. He was younger, he didn't know any better..He couldn't have..
This was the blight, and it was a different time then now, then what they were fighting.
But she was a mage.
She pulled herself away from this memory, this distant idea of her Commander like her body was burned by a fire. She pulled herself back, this was not something she needed to see, these weren't her memories.
She opened her eyes, a shock running through her as she felt the cold seep into her body, Solas in front of her, his mind still focused. She panted, as her body fell forward, Solas opened his eyes, his hand touching her back as she reeled in pain.
"Vhenan? What is the matter?" Solas became concerned as he moved to his knees, supporting her body against his.
"I..I saw too much.." Her magic waned as she felt the pain rush through her again. Her mind fighting the memories that she knew of her Commander. He was different now...Wasn't he? He seemed forever suspicious of her and Solas, was it from their magic? Or from their relationship? Anara didn't know, but she didn't want to dwell too much on the thought, it was something beyond her control.
Solas looked up into the sky staring at the Breach as the hues of morning burst forth into the sky. Bleeding with the green, stopping it from entering the world like some unknown force. "Vhenan, we should get back. We have a long day ahead of us.."
She nodded, her eyes sweeping over the valley around them as morning came to life. With it, so will their adventure continue.
They marched back into The Hinterlands, trying to make their way to Redcliffe on Fionas invitation. The path winding through the mountains and trails. Anara's eyes looked over the land, seeing it all different from the memories that she once walked through. How tattered and broken the lands once were from the Blight, and how the ten years difference left it's mark upon the land. Her eyes would flicker towards Solas, whose hand still held his staff as his mind reached out to hers, Vhenan, what is the matter?
Her eyes looked down as they continued their journey, words unspoken between them as they reached the top of the hill, a rift between them and the gate that remained shut to them. The demons roared and howled in might as they fled from the rift their bodies shifting towards them.
Cassandra ran towards the demons, her shouts powering her as she charged into the fray, her sword and shield making it's way through the demons as Varric stood back, Bianca firing into the battle tirelessly. Solas let his magic flow forth as the winds of winter grasped the bodies of lesser demons, causing them to shatter and fade back.
But Anara's mind was caught in the rift, in the demons and power that filtered through. She stumbled, her movement was slow as she tried to fight the pull of the magic within the rift. Beckoning her, her feet no longer apart of her will, but the will of another. She could hear it sing, hum a sweet tune that she had only known.
Solas watched as she walked towards the rift, with no intention of stopping it's power. "Anara?" Solas watched her as she reached out her hand to the rift, watching the clawed hands of a demon reaching out to her.
"Anara!" He shouted across the field, his body moving as Cassandra cut down another enemy, it's scream echoing through the area around them.
Solas raced, he had spent too long to see her be pulled into the waiting hands of a demon. His staff knocking back lesser demons as winters chill enveloped him, his body fade stepping across the field in a streak of blue light.
Anara's hand reached out, the hum so familiar, the tune she used to sing as a small child. The same tune she sang to her brother. "Tobias.." She whispered, her fingers reaching out to his as he spoke to her,
"Let us go home my dear sister.." Her mind flittered through her memories, of holding his sleeping form when he was born. Of the hum of songs she sang to him as he grew, and of the tears she felt when she was sent away. How he was the only who wasn't afraid of her magic, and how he must've hated it when she was gone, absent of her humming.
She felt a hand grab her wrist, pulling her hand back as she screamed, Solas dragged her away from the rift as she kicked and screamed, "Tobias!" She shouted, her other hand reaching out to him, as Solas saw it's true form.
A Desire demon, warping Anara's mind and giving her false hopes as it tore through her memories. Solas could hear her sob as he continued to pull her away, wishing only for her to be free from it's magic. As the last demon fell the mark worked it's will, sending forth it's power to close the rift. "No!" She screamed Solas held her back.
Varric and Cassandra turned looking at her in stunned silence as she tried to fight to the rift, "No! Tobias!" She screamed again, the loud drone from the anchor closing the rift overpowering her screams.
Solas watched as the demon pulled itself back in, knowing not to lose itself within the broken rift. As it closed, he watched a faint smile play upon it's lips as it licked one long finger at him. "Foul demon.." He cursed under breath, knowing it was the same demon that tempted him with Anara's return.
The rift exploded, shards of the fade disappearing into the real world. The land around the rift seemed to pulse, it's shape and color different; dead compared to the life that surrounded them in the world.
Cassandra looked at Solas, who held Anara back as she sobbed, her hand twitching from the power within her mark.
"What was that…?" She spoke to Solas, his arms bracing her shoulders as she fought back the tears in her eyes.
Cassandra assumed she was talking of the change within the land, and spoke to those around her, as Solas knew she spoke to him. "That was a desire demon Vhenan, she probed your mind, and found the thing you most desire. It seems you still wish your brother to live."
She slumped her shoulders into Solas's arms, feeling the emotional toll come down and take her as her head bowed, closing in close for only Solas to hear, "I cannot do this.." She sobbed to him, hiding her feelings from the world around her.
"You can Vhenan, you must, no one else can." His eyes looked at hers, as she pulled back her tears as she looked at Solas.
" Something's not right…" She looked to Solas and the group as they looked back in silent confusion to her words as she moved. Anara moved forward, pushing the feelings of disappointment down inside herself as she walked forward. The staff still moving in her hand as she felt the mark within her pulse from the power she felt.
" Stay on your guard…" Anara moved forward, the gate to Redcliffe finally opening to them.
They met with a scout, a man who was in confusion to the situation presented, "No one was expecting us." He spoke, looking at Anara as she grasped her staff, pulling it close as she looked around, it seemed the area has taken a more aggressive stance since the blight.
" No one?" Her eyes moved back to the scout as her eyebrows furrowed, "Not even grand Enchanter Fiona?" Her confusion becoming more evident on her face as the scout shrugged,
"If she was. She hasn't told anyone. We've arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations.."
They were cut off by a younger elf, a mage just like her and Solas, his movement was erratic as he tried to cover himself with apologies. " Agents of The Inquisition, my apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn't yet arrived. He's expected shortly.."
"You can speak with the former grand enchanter in the meantime." She felt her jaw lock as she looked at the elf,
"Former?" He rushed himself away from the group as she spoke in annoyance to his words. Fiona was Grand enchanter, still is, not 'was'.
The air felt different, and Solas took notice, the veil was weaker, altered, touched in such a way that it bent the will of time and changed the land around them at the previous rift. But she could feel the fear and worry that had filled the hearts of many here. It seemed that with the weakness in the fade, also allowed a weakness in appearances. There were many hushed whispers as they moved towards the village. The sun burst forth from the clouds in the sky, the light reminding them of the world they were meant to save. Of the land that stood before them that was burned in blights and bloody in battle. Of the windmill on the hill that led the Grey Wardens into the castle of Redcliffe.
She had heard the stories while in the circle, the tales of demons and the deal a boy made. It was a reminder of the lies demons spun, and the repercussions of believing their tales.
They had moved into the village, as her eyes looked over the marvel that she had only heard of from the Circle. Redcliffe, was a decisive move in the blight and in saving the village and the Arl, the Queen of Ferelden and King Alistair secured themselves on Ferelden's throne.
They walked through the village as people turned to look at them, Anara noticed the mages that had gathered in the town. Their staves and robes making themselves obvious, but they had no choice.
Most mages within the Free Marches had rebelled after the events in Kirkwall, most taking shelter and refuge there as they planned their attacks accordingly. The rest fled to Ferelden, where King Alistair offered sanctuary, but Anara never had the chance to join her colleagues here. Instead she met at the Conclave, hoping to meet and be apart of such pivotal history for all mages.
Her hand touched the Griffon statue that stood in the middle of the town, it's reminder to the world of the Grey Wardens, and of the Hero's aid during those times. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt as if she was reliving history, wishing only again to see the world through Ellandra's eyes.
She had walked the town, speaking to both elves and humans, mages and Chantry. She too spoke, to the warning of the young man she had heard so many years ago. Of the once prince of Redcliffe named Connor.
She felt pity and remorse for the young man. Knowing full well his plight as a noble with magic, but it felt like the wounds of his deal with demons were still fresh upon his mind. Something she felt, would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Solas touched her shoulder, his touch reminding him of the feel of Alistair's hand on Ellandra's shoulder. The gentleness and sweetness that she felt in their history.
She turned to look at him as he nodded, his eyes looking up the hill towards the tavern that they had to head towards. "We must Vhenan, for no one else will."
She wished to turn away, to hide from the world and waste away in isolation. But this duty was put upon her, was burned into her with the mark, no one else could do it. For someone else could do it wrong.
They passed mages collected outside the tavern, waiting. She pushed her hand against the door, as the group followed in tow, Varric looking around at the glum on the faces of the mages, "You'd think someone died with all these sour faces.."
Anara looked as she noticed all the mages were staring at them, their eyes piercing right through them as she felt their magic wane. Her hands pushed the door open as they walked in, the tavern, surprisingly empty.
Anara felt right from the bat that this was a trap, she was enclosed and caged. In an area that had little to no people in it, but Fiona stood there her face confused but open to them.
"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition…"