Stumble from the Ashes
Revas supposed there could be worst ways to die.
He turned a bright blue gaze across his surroundings, dark eyebrows raising slightly in amazement. The landscape was... odd, for lack of a better turn; the air seemed thick, swirling and waving as if alive, casting everything in an odd fuzzy overlay. The landscape beyond was... twisted, made of high rising rock and carved stone, a malignant caricature of the other side.
The elf waved his hand through a puff of light green... smoke? Energy? He wasn't entirely sure. His attention turned upwards- to the dark formations high above, not too dissimilar from the ground he was stepping on.
Or perhaps that was the ground and he was in the sky.
And as the thought entered his mind, gravity failed him- his bare feet, wrapped in dark cloth, left the ground, sending him hurtling upwards.
Or, downwards.
Short cut hair flapping in the wind, Revas hissed in a breath, thrusting his hands forwards at the ground rushing towards him far too quickly.
There was a flash of the air around him, and he froze. The elf stared at what had been his imminent death a moment prior, hair hanging in his face. The breath left him, tension draining. His body turned, feet gently coming to rest on the rocky black terrain below.
The Fade was quite a bit different from the last time Revas had been there.
The elf brushed off his outfit- a collage of earth brown leathers and forest green cloths, sleeveless long coat trailing lightly against the stone below. He began forwards again, leaning back, hands pushing into his pockets as a hum bubbled up from his throat.
No, Revas supposed there could be worst ways to die. He couldn't think of one at the moment, but there certainly must have been one.
He always found the Fade fascinating; moons and moons spent leaping and running through the spirit world in his dreams; meeting and playing amongst spirits and those that pretended to be spirits; awaking in a cold sweat with those golden eyes burned into his mind, the feeling of suffocating overtaking him.
A frown found the elf's face again. Yes, he was certainly in danger.
Particularly considering the fact that he was actually, truly in the Fade this time.
Yes, that was a fact currently weighing on him.
Perhaps he would write a dissertation on it. Assuming he lived through this. There was that problem to attend to first.
He let out a sigh, fixing his gaze onto the distance- and the world whirred past him, his form shooting meters and meters ahead, until he jerked to a stop on the spot he'd been staring.
"Well," He muttered, voice tipping with the sharp accent of the Dalish. "At least that still works..." He looked around, letting out a frustrated groan. "Well, then!" He barked, throwing his hands up. "If I'm going to die here, let's bloody get on with it, aye? I'm not gonna march along for hours till it happens!"
"Is someone there?" A deep and smooth, panicked Marcher voice called out, its tone reminding the Dalishman of what whiskey might sound like.
Revas' gaze fell forwards, eyebrows raising. "Depends- are you a demon?" He shouted back.
"Maker, no! I need your help!"
The elf rolled his eyes, continuing forwards at a much more pitched pace, focusing on the voice, aware of the Fade shifting around him, bending to his will. And in only a moment's time, he found the source of the voice.
And he screeched to a stop, eyes going wide.
The clearing ahead of him was made of odd, wavering stone, mountains rising around them, shadowing them in near darkness. The breeze of the Fade went silent within, like a vacuum suffocating them.
Kneeling in the center was a man- a towering man, even with his lowered frame, perhaps twice as wide as the elf himself. His skin, ash grey, was lined with swirling red symbols, dressed in roughshod leathers and patchwork metal, his hair- smooth and white- falling down his back; two pairs of horns curled backwards around his head, coming to steel-clad points. His yellow eyes met the elf's own, and terror stared back at the mage.
Revas raised a hand, slowly making his way towards the qunari. "Easy, friend..." He said lightly. "Let's take a breath, eh?"
The man pushed himself to his feet with a wince, body trembling as pain wracked his features. "I- I need help," The man managed. "It- it fucking hurts."
"What hurts?"
"The-" The man's eyes shot open wide. "Elf, move! Now!"
Revas' eyebrow raised, turning over his shoulder to the source of the man's horror.
And the blood drained from the elf's face as he stared into the dark pits that passed for eyes; the pale skin, wreaked with wounds and pulled taut over the flesh; teeth filed into dagger-like points; its armor, whatever was left of a Ferelden soldier's.
The darkspawn let out an ear-shattering shriek, raising its sword high- a trio of others filing in behind it.
Revas stumbled backwards, mouth falling agape. "...Qunari." He called, forcing the rising tide of panic back down into his chest.
After a moment, he reached the larger man, watching as more and more of the creatures crawled in through the gap, snarling and hissing at the two men.
The qunari's jaw grit tight, his own chest rising and falling with the fear coursing through his veins.
Hardly a moment passed before the ground behind the duo began to rise high into the air, towering over the mountaintops. Brilliant light spilled through the air to shine down onto the men, drawing their gazes towards the top of the high-rise- now forming into a long, steep set of stairs.
A woman floated gently at the top of the rise, extending her hand down to them- little more than a brilliant golden light, her features barely discernable against her silhouette.
"Hurry!" She called, lilting Orlesian accent filled with urgency.
"Go." The qunari said, and Revas was hardly going to argue, turning on his heel and beginning to rush up the stairs.
The darkspawn roared at the sudden movement, now charging forwards, crawling over each other towards the retreating men.
Revas and the qunari climbed higher and higher, the former taking the odd glance backwards to the Blighted horde gaining quickly on them- little more than a rising mass of steel, flesh, and claws, snarling and roaring after them.
"Go, go, go, go!" The elf snapped, picking up his pace, as the qunari did the same, swallowing down his pain to keep up with the more lithe man.
The duo neared the woman, the darkspawn nearing them, broken steel and iron weapons swinging out for the men's ankles. She reached out further, golden fingers stretching towards them.
The qunari grabbed hold of Revas, his other arm extending- his hand reached hers, and a flash of green exploded across the Fade, sending the elf careening back into darkness.
Khotal was surprised when he woke up- jolted back to life by a searing pain radiating throughout his entire body. He bared his teeth and sucked in a growl, swallowing the shout bubbling in his throat.
When he raised his eyes, he was even more surprised to see he was in a prison cell; dark, and freezing, with no windows and the only light afforded to him the quartet of sconces surrounding him. Two heavy sets of chains bolted his arms to the ground beside him, and a third was wrapped heavy around his neck, holding him securely in place.
At his stirring, one of the guards standing beside the door ahead of him, turned and beat a quick retreat, disappearing through the wrought-iron frame. Khotal's eyes narrowed, and he gave a short tug on his chain to test- even for his massive size, it was too much to pull loose.
He didn't miss the remaining guard's hand going to his sword, and the situation continued to get worse and worse in the qunari's mind.
He wasn't given much time to think, though, as suddenly the door swung wide open once again, this time with a new visitor charging through- tall and well-built, the dark-haired warrior's face was alight with fury as she stormed towards him, the long scar across her sharp features twisting with disdain at the sight of him.
"Tell me why we shouldn't just kill you now?!" She roared, taking hold of his collar and giving him a hard shake. "Justinia is dead! The Conclave is destroyed- what do you have to say for yourself?!"
As she leaned in, Khotal could see the tears reddening her dark eyes.
"TELL ME!"
Khotal took a breath, locking stern gaze with her stern gaze. "I don't. Know. What you're talking about."
That only deepened her snarl, and she leaned back to point at his hand, the one where the pain spread throughout his entire being from. The world shook slightly, and suddenly... his hand was alight with green energy, like a small verdant fire, and the agony surged anew, this one nearly sending him down to all-fours.
"Explain. That." She hissed.
He shook his head, swallowing against the burning in his veins. "...I... can't..." He managed through grit teeth.
The woman grasped onto his hair to yank him back to a straight base, moving to strike him as she did. "YOU'RE LYING!"
Before she could connect, something wrapped around her arm, and pinwheeled her away, stumbling boots skidding across the rough cobblestone; in her place, was a smaller woman, dressed in chainmail and purple robes rather than the other woman's dark leathers and platemail. She turned to him with bright blue eyes for only a second, then returned her attention to the other woman.
"We need him, Cassandra," She said, her tone as cold as a dagger. She turned back to him, and now he could read much more danger in her even expression. "Do you remember what happened? How all this began? I would suggest you speak truthfully."
...Did he remember?
He remembered... something. Blurry images, half-formed thoughts. He shook his head. "I remember... darkness, and... and confusion. I remember, running, things chasing me, and... an elf- there was an elf there. And... a woman?" He frowned. He could see the elf's face; fine, dainty features clearly, recall the tattoo swirling around his eye, yet the woman was... a blur herself, only an image of gold accompanying her.
"...A woman?" The warrior- Cassandra- asked, voice almost a whisper, alight with hope.
He gave a short nod at that. "She was reaching out for me- us, the elf and I. There was a bright light and then..." Then nothing. "...Now I'm here." He locked eyes with her, chin raised as high as he could, desperate to show his stalwart truth.
"...I believe him," The redhead said. "The reports do tell of a woman seen in the rift, and we know our disappeared mage was reported to be an elf; this all is true. And yet," She cocked her head to the side, and Khotal felt like carrion being picked at by a raven. "You offer no explanation for the events that destroyed the Conclave and killed hundreds- despite being one of two survivors? It... simply belies belief, ser..."
"Khotal," He rumbled, casting his gaze away as the words settled on his shoulders. "Khotal Adaar... you said that I was the only survivor? That... that can't be possible, there were-"
"Hundreds of mages, templars, and Chantry sisters to oversee the peace talks," Cassandra cut in; her fury had ebbed, and now she just looked... defeated. "Her Most Holy among them..."
Khotal stared for a moment, then ducked his head, and whispered a prayer to himself, "Take her to your side, my Maker, and shelter her from this world," when he had raised his head, the two women's expressions had changed, and some unspoken look passed between him. Khotal moved to stand- jerking at his chains as he did. He sighed, then stared between the two of them. "I- I don't know what happened. But if there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."
Silence took the trio. The redheaded woman gave Cassandra a tilted look, finely plucked eyebrows raising. Cassandra stared back, before giving a heavy sigh of her own, dropping her head and shaking it. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana," she said quietly, then, with more force. "I will take the prisoner to the rift. Perhaps the mage's theory will prove correct."
Leliana nodded, gave Khotal one last look, then beat a quick retreat, disappearing through the door without so much as a sound. Cassandra cleared the distance back to him, and reached for her belt- for a moment, Khotal thought she was going for her sword.
Instead, she pulled a ring of keys loose, and began around him, undoing the thick chains until his arms, then neck were freed. He let out a relieved huff, rubbing at the chafing of his wrists- and stared down to his hand, where a thin, long scar stared back up at him, pale and angry.
"Come," Cassandra said sharply. "...Try anything, and I will cut you down, am I understood?"
Khotal could only give her a small nod, choosing to hold his words for the time being.
Maker above... all those people... dead. The Divine Justinia... dead. And yet he, some lowly vashoth mercenary was still alive. It didn't make sense.
He had to do something to make this right. He wasn't sure what, but...
But fuck, he had to have lived for a reason, didn't he?
Khotal rose to his feet, standing three heads taller than Cassandra, and gave her another stiff nod. He would follow the warrior wherever she led, if some sort of... he wasn't sure, absolution? Something could be found for him.
One of the guards reached over to throw open the doors as they made their way forwards, Cassandra leading the way. As he stepped through, the blinding light of the sun over the mountains, and the white of the snow underfoot, shocked him; he winced, raising a hand to shield from the stark brightness, huffing a foggy breath against the cold.
It wasn't until he'd lowered his hand that he saw it.
It was enormous, hanging in the sky like a gaping hole; swirling green energy and clouds, thundering out with bright flashes in every direction it stretched. It must have been half the size of Starkhaven, the way it yawned across the blueness of the sky.
"We are calling it the Breach," Cassandra said, apparently noticing his shock. "It was caused by the explosion at the Conclave, and every hour it grows larger. Our... expert fears it may grow large enough to swallow the world itself."
Khotal looked from her back to it, watching as a green comet fell from its dark interior, disappearing into the trees. He shook his head, and whispered another prayer. "...How do we stop it?"
Now, Cassandra's expression was... even more different. Softer, somehow, despite the harshness of her features. She was silent for a beat, before turning to continue down the path, snow crunching under her boots. "There is a theory; we will test it when we reach the rift."
Khotal began to follow after, staring around at the small town they were in- Haven, if he remembered correctly. Once, it was a pilgrimage for followers of the Chant of Light, where the Temple of Sacred Ashes supposedly once held the ashes of Andraste herself. Now, it was a small shantytown, with lean-to tents and makeshift encampments spread around him.
And in that small village, the inhabitants gave him harsh glares as he passed, whispering amongst each other with sharp tongues.
They hated him.
Khotal almost forgot what it was like to be hated.
"They have cast their blame," Cassandra said evenly. "They need to. They mourn those lost, her Most Holiness among them. The qunari who survived makes a... convenient scapegoat." The last words were almost spoken more to herself than him.
Khotal shook his head. "I..." He grunted. "I can't blame them. I don't think I'd do any different in their shoes."
Cassandra looked up to him as they turned down a mountain path, heading away from Haven and further into the valley, soldiers running past between spiked and armored barriers hastily erected. She said nothing, and they walked then in silence, trailing along the edge of a ravine towards the series of stone bridges that would lead them down to where the Temple once stood.
So why could he remember this and not what happened at the Conclave? It didn't make any-
The Breach flashed with life and light and thunder, green coloring the valley for a moment; as it did, that thrice-fucking-damned pain ignited in his hand again, washing out over every fiber of his skin and bones and muscle, until he fell with a shout, grasping onto his wrist as tight as he could.
Cassandra was to his side quickly, one hand placed on his shoulder, gripping it tightly and giving him some small anchor to focus on. Her grip was strong, and the pain it gave was more than a welcome distraction from the searing agony.
Finally... it was gone. He huffed for breath, leaning back slightly with a wince and trying to push the pain from his mind.
"It's killing you," Cassandra said sternly, looking him dead in the eyes. "Slowly but surely, every time the Breach grows, so does your Mark. We must stop it before the Mark kills you and the Breach kills us all."
"Whatever I have to do." He said, before giving her a resolute nod. She returned it now, and stepped back, rising to her feet and extending a hand. He took it, his own dwarfing hers as she helped him back to his feet.
Cassandra said nothing, turning to continue their trek, and Khotal had to admit the silence was- for once- torturous to him, leaving him with only his thoughts and the Breach staring at him from its perch in the sky.
He was dying. He'd come close to dying before, many times, but each was at the edge of a blade, or a spell whispering off of a mage's staff. Dying like this...
Khotal couldn't let it. He would fight this damn thing if it was the last thing he did.
They had reached one of the bridges crossing the frozen river of the ravine, soldiers carrying a variety of weapons to and fro, rushing deeper into the valley with supplies- for the other soldiers? How many were there deployed to fight this?
It didn't matter then- the Breach flashed again, but instead of growing, it spat out a series of those green comets, hurtling down towards the earth.
Hurtling down towards them.
Khotal's eyes widened, and he widened his stance. "LOOK OUT!" He roared, eyes turning to him, but it was too late- the comet crashed into the bridge with a calamitous bang, shattering it into rubble and crushing most of the soldiers atop it. He and Cassandra were far enough back to avoid the meteor itself, but couldn't stop themselves from tumbling down the bank towards the ice below, her smaller frame carrying her further, his cracking the ice with the wind rushing from his lungs.
His gaze rose to where she herself was gathering herself, one of the comet's leaving a bubbling black and green pool of ooze... and in horror, he watched as a demon began to rise from it- sluglike, draped in tattered cloth, and spindly, too long limbs, Khotal had killed enough minor demons to recognize a Shade.
"Stay behind me!" Cassandra barked, drawing her sword and charging forwards, her steel shield held at the ready. Khotal didn't need the order repeated, left with only his cloth gambeson, his bare hands, and this damnable Mark seared into his skin.
And yet, fate had other plans, as he watched a new meteor arc down to the ravine between him and the warrior, cracking the ice with the impact, bubbling with energy as another Shade rose, the dark depths of its hood letting out a hiss as it began to crawl towards him.
Khotal backed up, one foot behind the other, looking to where Cassandra was in battle with the first- he nearly tripped, then, and looked down to the rubble around him.
Rubble and shattered wood, as the supplies had gone flying from the destruction, scattering around the river- and to his left, he could see the long-hafted handle of a warhammer.
The Shade leapt for him, and he dodged to the side, rolling across the ice and sliding into the waiting edge of a box; his hand scooping up the hammer as he did. He was to his feet quickly, jumping himself as the demon recovered and turned to continue its attack.
He was quicker, as he fell into a slide, massive hammer for a human and perfectly right in his hands swinging from its readied position. The demon's body pinwheeled into the air from the impact, sticky, inklike flesh ripping from the force of the blow.
Khotal was to its side as it began to recover, and he struck down with all the force he could muster, splattering the demon's barely-corporeal flesh around in black ribbons, the impact splintering the ice below.
He sucked in a breath, and turned to where Cassandra had been fighting- and stared down the length of steel she bore towards him, its tip just a few inches from his nose.
"Drop that weapon!" She hissed, and the command gave no room for dispute.
Not that he would, anyways- he was the one under suspicion here. He needed to let her know that he wasn't the culprit, that he could be trusted. He released one hand, raising it in deference, and slowly began to kneel down, moving to place it onto the ground.
"Alright," he said slowly and deeply, making no sudden moves. "I'm setting it down."
She stared at him as he did, eyes going dark with confliction, and her jaw working as she fought over something in her head. Her eyes closed, and she shook her head, dropping her blade's tip to rest against the ice.
"Wait," she said with resignation in her voice. "Stop. Keep it. I cannot expect you to not defend yourself... and I do not imagine there won't be more combat to come."
That brought a wave of relief to Khotal, standing back to his full height and reaching back to strap it to his leather harness. Cassandra began to walk away, her attention turning to the rising of a hill alongside the frozen river, heading further into the valley. She stopped, then, and looked over her shoulder at him with that gentleness that surprised him. "I should remember you came willingly. I do not know if you are innocent... but you have assuaged my suspicions. It will be left to what you do now to assuage the others,"
She cocked her head to the side, gesturing for him to follow. "Come, then. The rift is not far, and I imagine that there will be demons to kill."
And with that, Cassandra continued her steadfast march forwards, and Khotal was only a short step behind her.