~ Three ~
In the ethereal realm of the Fade, Serana found herself face to face with Asha'bellanar, her figure shrouded in the misty veils of dreams. The environment around them pulsated with an otherworldly luminescence, casting an eerie glow on their meeting place. The woman exuded an aura of ageless wisdom, a hint of mischief in her eyes, eyes that held the secrets of countless lifetimes.
Serana's task, veiled in mystery, was presented once more with cryptic words that echoed through the dream realm. Asha'bellanar spoke in riddles, her voice a melodic blend of whispers that seemed to carry echoes of forgotten prophecies. The air shimmered with the weight of destiny as Serana grappled with the elusive nature of her mission.
The sage sorceress imparted fragments of knowledge to Serana. Symbols and visions danced in the air, each one carrying a piece of the puzzle that Serana was meant to unravel. The nature of her task remained obscured, draped in the mystique of the Fade, as if the answers were woven into the very tapestry of dreams.
As she delved deeper into the dream realm, guided by the enigmatic presence before her, she became acutely aware that her journey transcended the boundaries of her usual steps in the Fade. Asha'bellanar, acting as her conduit between realms, left Serana with a sense of both urgency and destiny. The puzzle pieces of her task lay scattered across the dreamscape, awaiting the touch of understanding she had yet to find.
Serana's awakening from the mysterious dream was gradual, the transition from the Fade to the waking world marked by a gentle dissolution of the dream's ethereal embrace. The luminescent surroundings gradually faded, wisps of the dream dissipating like morning mist. The echoes of Asha'bellanar's cryptic words lingered momentarily, like the fading notes of a distant melody.
As the dream's hold weakened, Serana felt a subtle shift in her consciousness, the boundary between the dream and reality becoming distinct. The vibrant hues of the dream's landscape gave way to the familiar shadows of the waking world. The sensation akin to surfacing from the depths of a profound reverie.
With a gradual return to awareness, Serana found herself lying beside Solas, the familiar textures of the forest floor beneath her. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the natural light filtering through the canopy. The dream's tendrils released their hold, leaving her with a lingering sense of the task that awaited her in the waking world. The transition, like waking from a dream within the embrace of the forest, left her momentarily suspended between realms before fully grounding her in the reality of the moment beside Solas.
Observing him in the quiet stillness of sleep, Serana allowed herself a moment of contemplation. His features softened in repose; the lines that marked his waking moments smoothed by the tranquility of slumber. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, a testament to the peaceful surrender to dreams, captivated her gaze.
In the quiet realization of their proximity, Serana rose from her spot, silently acknowledging the closeness that lingered between them. With a glance towards the still-sleeping Solas, she stood and retreated, allowing the dawn's first light to accompany her departure. The sun began its ascent on the horizon as she quietly returned to the camp alone, leaving the slumbering forest behind, the hushed rustle of leaves bearing witness to the untold complexities of their connection.
Though Serana was certain nothing romantic had transpired between them, a lingering curiosity teased at the edges of her mind. She couldn't shake the question of when and why Solas had chosen to lay down near her. The quiet mystery of the night, along with her encounter in the Fade left her pondering, a subtle uncertainty lingering like the morning mist in the forest.
Solas stirred from his slumber, his senses gradually returning to the waking world. The dawn's soft light filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow on the forest floor. As he opened his eyes, he noticed the vacant space beside him where Serana had been moments before. The lingering warmth in the spot hinted at her recent presence, and the hushed rustle of leaves spoke of her departure.
A flicker of realization crossed Solas' features as he sat up, a silent acknowledgment that the quiet moments shared in the early light had come to an end. The untouched tranquility of the falls surrounded him, but the absence of Serana left a subtle void. He couldn't help but wonder about her sudden retreat, a quiet curiosity knitting itself into the fabric of his thoughts. As he looked towards the campsite, he found himself contemplating the unsaid intricacies that had unfolded with the dawn. A reluctant recognition of growing feelings stirred within him, the weight of unspoken emotions weaving into the quiet tapestry of their time together.
As he contemplated the empty space beside him, a conflicted understanding settled within. He knew that pursuing Serana romantically would be a precarious distraction from his overarching mission. The unspoken connection that had woven itself between them in the stillness of the forest presented a delicate choice – a choice he hesitated to make, aware of the potential complications it could introduce to his already tenuous plans. In the solitude of the waking forest, he grappled with the internal struggle of acknowledging emotions that threatened to divert him from the path he had chosen. He stood, resolved to follow her lead as long she would have him at her side.
"The village seems too quiet," Cassandra noted as they all walked together toward the Gull and Lantern.
Suppressing a scowl, Serana surveyed the hurried villagers darting past, their eyes avoiding any contact. The bustling activity of readying shops for the day and the resumption of daily life after a night's reprieve were accompanied by an unmistakable tension in the air. The palpable unease unsettled Serana, to say the least.
"Probably something to do with the Tevinter occupation," Varric said. "You sure you don't want to turn and run now before we get wrapped up in some arcane Tevinter bullshit?"
Serana shook her head with a small smile. "I don't think you mean that Varric."
He raised an eyebrow and offered a nonchalant shrug, choosing silence over any indication of disagreement as they approached the steps of the Gull and Lantern.
"Why are we here?" Cassandra asked, frowning.
"What do you mean? If any negotiations are to be had, they're to be had here," Serana replied.
Cassandra looked at her warily, her face visibly tense. "No," she said. "Why are we still here in Redcliffe? Seeking aid from the rebel mages was one thing, but a Tevinter Magister? It could be a trap."
"I anticipate it is," Serana said gruffly, looking at each of her companions in turn. They all nodded their ascent; they were ready for whatever laid in wait for them.
The tavern sat in hushed stillness, with workers briskly moving to and from, diligently preparing for the day's tasks.
Serana's eyes scanned the room darkly, until she landed on a familiar face.
"Grand Enchanter Fiona!" She called out, walking toward her.
"Yes?" The Grand Enchanter said, her brow furrowed.
Noting the lack of recognition in her gaze, Serana cleared her throat and said, "Are you all right?"
"Why would I not be?" She looked at Serana and her companions with a perplexed expression. Fiona stood, her hand reaching for the table next to her as she swooned.
Serana caught her in her arms, worrying, her eyes darted around the tavern before landing on Cassandra. Serana conveyed her unease with a subtle shake of her head directed at the Seeker.
Cassandra nodded, almost imperceptibly, before scanning the room herself.
"Fiona," Serana said softly near the dizzied elf's ear. "We're here because of your invitation back at Val Royeaux. Do you not remember?"
"I… impossible. Please help me up," Fiona said with a little more strength in her voice. "I have not been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave."
Serana helped the elder elf up and studied her with a look of growing concern.
"Impossible sounds right." Serana concluded, grimacing. "You or someone who looks exactly like you spoke to me in Val Royeaux a few days ago."
Against her better judgment, Serana unleashed a torrent of questions upon the older woman. She inquired about the apparent lack of awareness in Redcliffe regarding the Inquisition's visit, the removal of the Grand Enchanter from her position, and the unsettling presence of Tevinter Imperialists striding through Redcliffe as if it were their latest conquest.
When Fiona spoke, she did so as though trudging through a tar filled pit. Her hand moved to rub her forehead, as though coaxing memories to the surface. When the subject of Magister Alexius arose, she snarled with a fierce intensity that prompted several heads within the Chantry to turn in alarm.
Serana winced when Fiona told her that the rebel mages had already pledged themselves to the Tevinter Imperium.
Solas broke his silence, his tone gentle as he addressed Fiona. "I understand you are afraid, but you deserve better than slavery to Tevinter."
Fiona's eyes held a profound depth of sadness as they looked from Solas to Serana. "Well, as one now indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you."
"This is absurd," Serana lashed out. "An alliance with Tevinter is a terrible mistake."
A door shut loudly behind them, prompting everyone to turn and gaze at a man adorned in extravagant robes, his pointed hood adding an air of mystery to his presence.
Serana fixed a piercing glare on the man as he extended a welcome and offered apologies for not being present upon their arrival. The tension emanating from her companions behind her was palpable, and she wrestled against the impulse to unsheathe her daggers on the spot. His curious gaze fueled a poisonous hatred within her as he casually remarked on his fascination with her status as the Conclave's unique survivor.
"Up here," she spat, noting the way his eyes stared at her marked hand. "What is all this now? This alliance between the rebel mages and the Imperium? And what of the Arl and his men?" Serana planted her feet firmly, willing herself to remain composed. The man's arrogance provoked a recklessness within her, but she knew better than to unleash it before confirming her suspicions.
Alexius relayed his feigned concern of tensions between the Arl's men and the Tevinter presence, alluding to a supposed willingness on the Arl's behalf to leave his lands in order to avoid potential conflict. Serana did not believe a word that came out of his mouth as he carried on, speaking of how long the mages would have to work off their "indentured" title and duties.
They both settled at a nearby table, and he gestured for a young man to approach. "This is my son, Felix," he introduced with a nod.
The young man walked over slowly, limping, before falling into Serana's lap dramatically. A flash of surprise replaced her initial grimace as she felt him slip a piece of paper into her hand. Her fist tightened around it, sliding it down into her boot as Alexius grabbed Felix into her arms. She stood slowly, watching the pair exit the tavern.
Alexius muttered halfhearted apologies about needing to take his leave in order to tend to his son before shepherding the young man out of the tavern.
There was a tense silence in the room, broken sharply by the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. Serana shook her head and looked at her companions with a solemn face.
"Let's take a walk," she told them quietly.
Outside, Serana walked straight down the archway near the Chantry. She could feel her friends at her back, and she smiled knowing she didn't have to face this madness alone. In a small copse across the Chantry, Serana motioned for them to follow her within.
Confident they were shaded from prying eyes and ears, Serana sighed and reached into her boot for the parchment. She saw Solas' eyes widen slightly at the sight of the paper; his expression quickly replaced with curiosity. Serana opened it and read it aloud.
"Trap," was all Varric said.
Serana walked up a nearby tree, slowly peeling back a thin branch and stared at the Chantry. She could not see anyone suspicious lurking about outside, but she knew better than to take that as a sign of safety. She turned to her companions and wished someone would just make the decision for her.
"Thoughts?" She looked at each in turn, all seeming to withhold their own reservations.
"It is simple," Solas finally said. "We must enter the Chantry, or we will not know the nature of this danger. Leaving Redcliffe now in the state it is in, which we are still unclear about, may only result in a bigger quandary for us." He looked at Serana solemnly before adding, "And all the while, the breach still lingers in the sky."
Dread coiled in the pit of Serana's stomach as she acknowledged the undeniable truth in his words. Deep down, she understood the necessity of the path ahead, recognizing the inevitability of the trap that awaited. Despite the rationality of the decision, a wave of nausea swept over her, a visceral response to the knowledge that she was willingly stepping into a situation fraught with peril. The internal struggle between reason and instinct intensified as she grappled with the unsettling sensation of walking willingly into the unknown, the uneasy dance between logic and emotion playing out within her.
She felt a soft breeze whisper across her face. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the warmth of a reassuring caress from the gentle wind. Memories of a distant summer flooded her mind, transporting her to a tranquil meadow where wildflowers danced in harmony with the breeze. In that moment, she embraced the serenity and allowed the whispers of the wind to carry away any lingering worries, leaving behind a sense of peace that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.
Serana opened her eyes, her companions eyeing her curiously.
"Well?" said Varric.
Solas cast a discerning gaze upon her, his eyes betraying a nuanced wariness. The lines on his face tightened ever so slightly, evocative of a guarded watchfulness, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air.
She met his gaze with a carefully composed exterior, but beneath the surface, a flicker of unease settled in her chest. A fleeting sense of self-consciousness crept over her, and she became acutely aware of the delicate balance hanging in the air, wondering how her every move might be interpreted by the discerning eyes fixed upon her. As the weight of Solas's suspicion settled, she found herself navigating the delicate dance of maintaining composure while intuiting what had triggered the wariness in his eyes.
Sensing all eyes on her, Serana turned toward the Chantry.
"Let us be done with this," she said firmly, turning on her heel resolutely.
They broke through the copse of trees and crossed the archway toward the Chantry.
The Chantry foyer was dimly lit, braziers hanging on pillars scattered throughout burning softly. The eerie quietness of the hall gave Serana an uneasy feeling and unsheathed her daggers without a second thought. Solas matched her stride, his staff gripped tightly in his right hand. Although he normally took his position at their rear with Varric, but she felt comforted by his closeness and said nothing of it.
"A rift," Serana said breathlessly.
"In here?" Cassandra whispered disbelievingly.
As they rounded the corner, a scene of chaos and otherworldly strife unfolded in the great hall of the Chantry. A lone mage, bathed in the pulsating glow of arcane energy, waged a desperate battle against a horde of demons. Spells crackled through the air, illuminating the shadows with bursts of magical brilliance as the mage deftly maneuvered to fend off the relentless onslaught.
The aftermath of the skirmish lay scattered around—the remnants of banished demons and the signs of a hard-fought struggle. As the last demon crumpled under the mage's formidable assault, he turned toward Serana, wearied but victorious. A faint, confident smile played upon his lips.
"You're here. Good," he acknowledged, the words punctuated by a steadying breath. "Now, help me close this, will you?"
Before Serana could respond, the atmosphere crackled with an ominous energy. As if on cue, a surge of power erupted from the rift, unleashing a fresh wave of demons. The air vibrated with tension as the battlefield shifted from a momentary lull to a renewed frenzy, demons emerging with malevolent intent. The mage's gaze met Serana's, urgency etched across his features as they both braced for the renewed onslaught, a shared determination to confront the encroaching darkness head-on.