She walked through an arch to the next area, coming across a scene that looked familiar, though it looked a bit different, and felt strange, wrong. And the fact that she was looking at it from a different perspective was strange.
The first moment she could remember from Haven. Four swords pointed at her, Cassandra looming over her in the most threatening manner she could manage. Jacquelyn had to admit that she had been mildly afraid of Cassandra in that moment, more than aware that the Seeker had all the power in the situation, had power over whether Jacquelyn was to live or die.
"You're lying!" the fake Cassandra said, Jacquelyn looking at the fake her kneeling on the ground. She shook her head. This felt strange. She had to keep moving. The more she moved, the less likely she was to break, and so the more likely she was to escape. But one thing was for sure. She wasn't going near the replay, moving around them as carefully and as cautiously as possible.
"Do you deny it?" the fake Cassandra asked, Jacquelyn glancing around as she spoke. "Do you dare deny your crime?"
Jacquelyn opened the door at the far end, meeting a new scene. This one wasn't something that she could remember. It was the shadowed version of her, standing arms crossed, feet shoulder width apart. There were two other people with her, members of the Inquisition, both standing with their hands behind their backs, which were stiff and straight.
"Our enemies have surrendered unconditionally," the female soldier reported, eyes fixed in front of her.
"The Inquisition's strength rivals any kingdom," from the male soldier.
"Our reach begins to match my ambition, but we'll strive for more."
Jacquelyn wasn't entirely sure whether she was the one saying that, or the fake. It was a strange sensation, one that she more than disliked. She growled.
"Is imitating me the only pleasure you have, Demon?" she spat. "Is there nothing better for you to do with your miserable existence?"
"Accusing, trying to find my weakness, is that the woman you are?"
Laughter filled the area, sending goosebumps up Jacquelyn's spine. Then the figures vanished in a small explosion, Jacquelyn flinching backwards as the flames seemed to engulf her. She could feel the heat, but for some strange reason the flames didn't hurt her, didn't leave any mark. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. A demon was messing with her mind. That had to be it. There was no other proper explanation. She could handle this.
Stay strong. Stay alive. Hide your true self. Get out.
She repeated this over and over in her head. It was about the only way she could avoid going crazy. She took in a deep breath and took a step forward, eyes fixed on the path ahead of her. This wasn't going to be too difficult. It seemed clear enough.
Then green flames started spilling out of the pillars ahead of her in some kind of waterfall. She stumbled backwards hurriedly. The flames were worse than the explosion, she could feel the heat prickling her skin. And these flames were green, with a more liquid-like appearance. Jacquelyn frowned at them, thinking hard for a moment. Clearly Envy was going to make this as hard for her as it could. But she wasn't about to give up, looking around. She turned and started walking to the right, seeing a couple of people there. She wasn't about to stop and listen to what torment and lies Envy was going to throw at her, slipping past them as quickly as she could.
"You chose the Chanty flag for the standards, is it important? Will you grieve when the Elder One topples it?" Envy asked, Jacquelyn pausing and looking at what was in front of her. Red Lyrium growing from the walls, blood soaking the ground, some kind of symbol painted on the floor in a red substance which she assumed was also blood. She averted her eyes and kept moving. Envy was trying to get a reaction. She wouldn't let it.
She had to weave her way through the different pillars, for want of a better term. Some of them spun where they were, changing the route that she had to take, forcing her to listen to more of the false Inquisition soldiers talking about her. At one point she had to clamber over a bunch of boxes to actually manage to get past the flames without getting hurt.
"Don't you see how glorious my Inquisition will be after you die at the hands of the Elder One?" Envy asked. Jacquelyn glared at his back as he ran off, now back in the form of the Lord Seeker once again. Then the image in front of her shifted slightly, shimmering for a moment before shadowed figured appeared in front of her. One was Siara, easily recognisable. And the other was Cullen. Jacquelyn faltered. Seemed to be becoming a usual thing for her when she saw Cullen.
"You're nothing," Siara was saying. "Templars are less than nothing. And you never stop being a Templar."
She shot forward, faster than Jacquelyn could comprehend, and the next thing she knew, the false Cullen was falling to the ground. Or his body was. His head was rolling in the other direction. Siara just stood there for a moment, then wiped her blade on the fur on Cullen's armour.
"Death was too good for you," she muttered, Jacquelyn staring in horror, bile rising in her throat, tears brimming her eyes. She shook her head, just staring at Cullen's head as it stopped rolling, confusion in his lifeless eyes, his mouth slightly open. Jacquelyn forced herself to look away. She'd now seen Cullen die twice. It was starting to take its toll. Siara looked around from it, staring straight at Jacquelyn.
"So, Herald, how does this make you feel?" she asked, her voice holding that strangely distorted edge to it. "Does it make you feel anger? Disgust?"
She moved forwards, closer to Jacquelyn, who flinched back, automatically drawing her sword. Siara shook her head, ignoring the sword, forcing Jacquelyn back against at wall. She stopped as Jacquelyn started feeling uncomfortable, readying to use her sword. Then Siara shook her head.
"No," she said. "Sadness? Sorrow?"
"What I feel is none of your concern, Demon," Jacquelyn muttered, though her tone was starting to lose its edge. More laughter, then Siara vanished, the explosion following much similar to the previous one. Jacquelyn didn't move for a moment, thankful that Cullen's remains had also vanished in the explosion as she struggled to regain composure. She took in a deep breath, pushing away from the wall and continuing on, bashing down a section of wall that seemed weaker and looking around.
"You're hurting, helpless, hasty, what happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?" T
hat voice was different. Jacquelyn paused. It lacked any kind of malicious intent, but she still didn't trust it, didn't know where it was coming from.
"What are you… get out! This is my place!" Envy sounded angry, which to Jacquelyn was a good thing.
In the room that Jacquelyn had found, there was a giant, twisted rock with an inscription on it, which she read quickly. She wasn't sure if it would help her in any way, but she stowed away what it said for use at a later date, on the off chance that it would. But she didn't have time to do anything more with it. Didn't have time to think on the words. Getting out of here was the primary concern.
She moved to the room opposite the wall she kicked down. There were papers scattered on the ceiling, along with a tub and a couple of baskets, perhaps a book or two. The rest of the room looked like an overgrown bedroom. A part of her supposed she should recognise it, but she didn't. It felt like it was from a dream. Or a dream of a dream. Then she realised that there were also things on the walls that shouldn't be. Chairs, rugs, more books and papers, you name it, along with paintings. At least one of the paintings was hung the wrong way up. There was nothing else in the room, however, and after looking around for a moment, Jacquelyn turned and headed for the door.
"Wait."
She spun around, on edge, but recognising the voice. It was the gentle one. The one that Envy had reacted so negatively towards. She turned and slowly walked back into the room, looking around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.
"Envy is hurting you," the voice spoke again, Jacquelyn whirling around to look where she had thought the voice had originated from. "Mirrors on mirrors of memory, a face it can feel but not fake. I want to help. You. Not Envy."
Jacquelyn stopped looking around, eyes landing on the bed, a small frown creasing her forehead.
"Is this another trick?" she asked. "I have just about had enough of your lies, Envy."
"I'm not a lie," the voice objected, almost sounding hurt. "I'm Cole. We're inside you. Well, I am. You're always inside you. It's easy to hear, harder to be a part of what you're hearing, but I'm here. Hearing, helping, I hope."
Jacquelyn looked up at the ceiling, a young man, perhaps more of a boy in his late teens, standing upside down. He wore a big floppy hat and rather patched clothes, the hat hiding most of his features from Jacquelyn. She slowly moved closer to him.
"Envy hurt you, it is hurting you. I tried to help, and then I was here, in the hearing, it's, it's not usually like this."
Jacquelyn shook her head slightly.
"None of what you have just said makes sense to me," she admitted. A strange growl echoed around wherever this place was, Jacquelyn turning to face the door and backing up slightly.
"I was watching. I watch. Every templar knew when you arrived. They were impressed, but not like the Lord Seeker," she turned to face Cole again, who was now sitting on the headpiece of the bed.
"The Lord Seeker is an envy demon. It wants to be me."
"Yes. It twisted the commanders, forced their fury, their fight. They're red inside. Anyway, you're frozen, Envy is trying to take your face. I heard it and reached out, and then in, and then I was here."
Jacquelyn frowned for a moment, contemplating her options. If she had more time, she would have investigated more, but she didn't have time. The longer she was in here, the more danger she – and by extension, the world – was in.
"Very well, Cole. You said you wanted to help? Then help me get out of here."
"It's your head. I'd hoped you'd know how to stop it."
"Unfortunately, I do not," Cole stood up and moved to the foot of the bed. "All of this is Envy. People, places, power," he explained. "If you keep going, Envy stretches. It takes strength to make more," he carefully got down off the bed. "Being one person is hard. Being many, too many, being more and more, and Envy breaks down. You break out."
"So… if we keep moving in my head, then we will tire Envy into submission?"
"Maybe. I hope it helps. It's more than sitting here, waiting to lose your face."
Jacquelyn nodded.
"Then we shall try it."
There was a determined edge to her voice, and she felt more like herself than she had when she first got to wherever this place was, other than her head, apparently. Cole nodded, then started moving.
"This way," he said, starting to walk away, though it was closer to a run than a walk. Jacqulyn hurriedly followed him. She didn't have much choice other than to trust this strange boy. She wasn't even entirely sure if he was actually wanting to help, or if he was just another of Envy's tricks. Though if he was, then Jacquelyn would be surprised. He seemed fairly genuine in everything he had said.
Then the images of Cullen getting killed twice played through her mind, and suddenly she was less certain about if she could trust the boy or not.