PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:

AN:

I had a complaint that after the abuse the OC suffered in "At The Fringes of Society", the perpetrator was promptly forgiven.

Just to clarify:

No, he was not forgiven.

While I'm pleased that I evoked such a response from a reader, I want to make clear that, in no way, do I believe that the criminal has been absolved of his crimes.

But he is dead.

Please remember this story is still in progress and the resolution planned will appear accordingly.

But I do want to take this opportunity to point out that there are many rape and abuse victims, in real life, who do not receive justice. When they muster up the courage to come forward, many victims are often disbelieved because the perpetrator is believed to be a "person of authority", "honourable", or the victims themselves are deemed to be "untrustworthy".

I also wanted to take the opportunity to portray the violence and abuse that occurs in prisons and how guards, in their perceived moral superiority, commit atrocious crimes upon prisoners. And Thedas provided the perfectly complicated framework to do so.

Please remember that this story is marked mature, and please take the warnings posted very seriously.

Why Ignorance Is Bliss

Hate begets hate; violence begets violence; toughness begets a greater toughness. We must meet the forces of hate with the power of love. – Martin Luther King

An alien feeling of coldness pervaded my being, numbing the agony that my body was in and consequently stealing the little lucidity I regained.

A hand cradled my head and I opened my eyes. Everything was a blur and my vision didn't focus. Two fingers pulled the skin under my eyes taut, and I saw a blue so light it was almost grey.

My eyes rolled back as I fell unconscious.

A rough kick to my stomach jolted me awake and I convulsed, throwing up bile from the force of the blow. My head throbbed and the lethargy saturating my body had me nearly collapsing into the puddle of vomit. An unnatural heaviness weighed my hands down.

"The prisoner's awake! Inform the Seeker!"

The vehemence and threat in the guard's voice had me fighting for lucidity, and suddenly I was back in the cell in Gwaren surrounded by multiple Colens hiding behind their helmets. The sound of horror died in my throat, suffocated by the bile rising from my stomach. I forced myself onto my knees; I wouldn't let him get him away, not this time. I will not cower, I will not hesitate, and I will show no mercy.

"It's the end of the world, all because of this fucking knife-ear," the guard's anguished rage had me shrinking in confusion, "We should kill her, do the Seeker and the world a favour."

What?

No, I couldn't let him distract me, humans loved playing the blame game, and used any justification to blame others. Colen had demeaned Kaari and I multiple times just to rationalize his lust. Finally, the agonised fury that had been eating away at my soul for years would be quenched.

Colen. Colen. Colen.

"Look at her," the guard, Colen, raged, "She has no remorse, no guilt." He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, "Fucking elves. This is why we hate you, y'all just mindless murderers, savages."

He hauled my head back to slam my head against the floor, but I used his momentum to smash my handcuffed slab onto his chest, pushing him back. He roared, and suddenly the nearby guards unsheathed their swords. My eyes ran wildly about the room, counting desperately; there were eight in total.

Shield!

There was a pulse of magic before it drained into the rectangular board cuffing my hands.

Shield! Shield! But they all drained away into the magic inhibiting cuffs. My left hand suddenly sparked in raw agony, feeling as though someone had stabbed straight through my palm.

My head spun from the pain, my vision going double as I strained to focus on the guards in front of me. I can't lose focus, not when Colen's so close. Colen's going to pay.

All eight of them charged at once, and I caught the legs of the man closest to me as his sword descended, quickly sliding under his legs before pushing him right into the swing of his comrades. Their swings stopped immediately, and they turned as one towards me.

They were highly trained. And now, cautious.

The adrenaline pumping through my veins finally cleared the haze permeating my thoughts and a terrifying realization dawned on me.

Colen was long dead. I was in prison. I had somehow angered these guards beyond reason. There was nowhere to hide: all I could do was survive this fight.

Fucking racist shems!

If they wanted to die so badly, who was I to refuse them?

One of them charged me as the others circled me, and I let him get close before jerking his sword away from him. He tried to elbow me, and the others closed in to take advantage of my distraction. I bent away from his attack range and swung the sword in my cuffed hands in a wide arc, making the guards back away quickly from the range of the swing.

I was outnumbered, without mana and quickly losing ground. I wasn't going to survive this. But I'd be damned if I didn't take them all with me!

One of the guards behind me swung wildly, and I dodged using the sword I stole to guard myself, but he broke through my defence, managing to slash my left thigh.

Fuck!

Another guard swung, and I brought the slab inhibiting my arms into its range, hoping he'd shatter it. There was a loud clang and the slab dented. I took advantage of his shock to stab him through the only gap in his armour: his throat. There was a gurgling sound before he collapsed.

One down, seven to go.

"Gaarghhh!" Several guards roared in rage and charged wildly, and I staggered back, my rush of adrenaline fading, overcome by my injuries and fatigue.

If only I had my magic. I wasn't going to win, not even close without it, but I'd fight back with every breath I had left in me.

A door banged open and a commanding feminine voice barked out, "Stop this at once!"

A tall woman with short dark hair and scars running from her cheek to her jawbone stormed forwards and the guards retreated immediately. A person of authority.

She stopped in front of the dead guard, "What happened?"

"The prisoner attacked us! That knife-ear killed Gregory!"

Her face twisted in fury and she stalked towards me, her arm drawing back to strike. Panic swelled in my chest, and in response to my growing terror, sharp searing agony blazed in my left hand, lifting on its own rising until the large rectangular slab faced the woman.

"Cassandra, stop! We need her!" A figure melted from the shadows near the door, and with a jolt I recognized her: Leliana. I had been keeping a paranoid eye on every figure in the room and she hadn't even registered on my radar.

Gazing into Cassandra's stormy brown eyes, my mind oriented and everything clicked. Cassandra Pentaghast. Leliana. A prison.

Oh. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Guards, back away. The Seeker and I will handle this," Leliana opened the door and gestured for the guards to leave. As the guards left Leliana pointed at the corpse, "Take Gregory with you."

One of the guards tried to kick me on the way out, but I caught his leg, forcing him to trip in retaliation. Seeker Pentaghast advanced towards me again and I backed away in caution.

My head throbbed again, and my left hand seared in response, but I couldn't afford even a moment of inattention, not with the Seeker standing in a murderous rage only a few feet away.

The door banged shut and Seeker started circling me. I watched her carefully, keeping her in my range so that she couldn't take me by surprise.

She bent low and grabbed the back of my head, whispering viciously, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, right now." She jerked my head and let go, withdrawing completely, "The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended, dead! Except for you!"

Panic, anxiety and terror welled up again and I breathed frantically to overcome the shaking of my body, because, why? Why had I been at the Conclave?! Because of Maxwell! But what happened?

I remembered nothing.

I knew, theoretically, what should have happened. But theoretically, I should never have survived the Conclave.

I could only keep silent.

Leliana and Cassandra closed in around me and Cassandra grabbed my left arm, "Explain this!"

The truth was, "I-I can't."

Cassandra leaned in and punched my face, and I fell back, feeling my jaw ache and head spin from the force of her blow.

"You attacked the guards, you're refusing to cooperate, and you-you killed the Most Holy! I should kill you-,"

"Cassandra, no, we need her."

How stupid did they think I was? This was a well-established routine to harvest information from clients or even our targets in the mercenary. But if Leliana was playing the good cop, then I had to appeal to her, as there was no other choice. Things had gone horribly wrong, and I was now under the mercy of vengeful shems desperately looking for someone to blame. Yet, even though Leliana and I were well acquainted, she would never show leniency.

And it seemed Leliana realized this, because her act dropped the moment she turned to evaluate my response.

"Leliana, it wasn't me." I gazed at her directly, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my left hand.

Leliana turned, the hood covering most of her features so that I couldn't decipher her expression, "The evidence and your behaviour suggest otherwise."

"Leliana, it wasn't me. I was conducting patrol, like you asked. And these guards attacked me first."

"Really?" The scepticism in her voice was only second to her aloofness, "Well then, Erelani, report. How did this begin?"

"I was-," I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her about Pulai, but I soldiered on, "I got a report that one of my men was being harassed by a Chantry aide," Cassandra scoffed, "So I set out to the Temple to change the roster, and that's it."

Cassandra glared, "That's it?"

I took a deep breath, "I don't know if this was a dream, or, or something else, but when I woke up, it, it was green. A, a," I stammered, unsure if I should say it was the Divine, a spirit or something else that had spoken to me. What had the game said it was? What did I think it was? "I don't know, something, a woman I think, told me to do something, I, I don't remember what."

"A woman? She spoke to you?" Leliana exclaimed in surprise, moving closer to me.

"Leliana, I don't remember, I really don't remember," A note of plea entered my voice, "We've known each other for years, Leliana. You know what I am, I wouldn't do this, you know that. I don't even know what happened! Leliana, ple-,"

"No," Cassandra cut me off and pulled Leliana back, pushing her towards the door, "Go to the Forward Camp, Leliana. I'll take her to the rift."

Leliana passed me an assessing stare before retreating. Cassandra approached me again and I tensed, "Treacherous elf."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Keep quiet and follow. If you run, I'll kill you immediately. Do you understand?" Her hands hovered over my restraints, waiting for an acknowledgement.

I gave her a measuring stare, noting the muted contempt on her face, "Yes. But what-,"

She cut me off, unlocking my restraints, "You'll see soon enough."

I finally looked down at my left hand, free from restraints. Dancing across my veilfire inscription was a bright green light, sparking furiously before snuffing out. But while it looked like green light, it didn't feel like harmless light. It felt like a heavy entity was pressing down, caught between the scripts of the veilfire, crackling energy sparking each time it interacted with my mana.

My mana?

But if the Anchor was on my left hand, what happened to the memories inscribed onto the veilfire?

Cassandra jerked me up, dragging me through the prison door. As I followed her, I was reminded abruptly of my injuries and my fatigue, limping desperately after her as she pulled me through the Chantry, letting go as a priest unlatched the wooden door.

The door swung open and I looked up.

Blood drained from my face, terror knotting my stomach as the massive tear in the sky came into view, storm clouds churning the closer they reached the centre. A hole in the centre showed the Fade and as I stared, I was falling, seeing beyond into…colours, magic, life but also emotions, power and death; it was sensory overload, like hearing for the first time, seeing for the first time, feeling for the first time, yet all combined, like being reborn: I was stupefied.

I couldn't look away.

Cassandra shook me, "That is the Breach. A massive rift into the realm of demons that grows bigger with each passing hour. It's not the only rift, merely the largest, created by the explosion at the Conclave. By you."

Her accusation snapped me out of my daze and my caution rose. Why were they so sure it was me? Why was Cassandra being so hostile? Had something happened that I didn't know about?

But then again, why was I even surprised? This was the real world; an apostate Dalish elf was the perfect person for the Chantry to blame.

"What happened?" I repeated, because despite everything, it did not make sense. I would never have rushed in to save the Divine, not when I had created a trump card to escape that very situation.

"There was an explosion at the Conclave that ripped through the Veil. The Breach has been growing ever since and unless we act, it will swallow the world."

But, "Explosions don't tear the Veil, not unless enough blood is shed."

It was the wrong thing to say. Cassandra's face twisted with contempt, "Hundreds of people died, is that enough of a number?"

The Breach pulsed and suddenly I was on the floor, panting through the excruciating pain. It was like something was trying to dig its way through my palm, clawing, burning, sizzling in its attempts to get out.

Cassandra kneeled in front of me, her gaze merciless, "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but you don't have much longer left."

And I could feel the truth of her words in my bones. The heaviness, the entity, in my hand was pushing relentlessly against my mana, my spirit, expanding alongside the Breach, desperately reaching out to connect to something and failing, and each attempt battered both my body and spirit.

I didn't engage Cassandra, even as she waited for an acknowledgement of her words. Nothing I said would appease her. As the Seeker, my life had no value to her, only the possibility of successfully closing the Breach was keeping me alive.

She was assured of my guilt. There was nothing I could say to convince her otherwise.

I trudged silently through the snow, subdued as Cassandra strode beside me.

I had severely overestimated my stoicism to this disaster because seeing the Breach rain fire down from the sky was like seeing the Blight ravage and corrupt the lands, destroying everything it touched. It was impossible not to feel your heart break in empathy as houses burned.

People were screaming, calling out desperately for help. Distant unintelligible screaming interspersed our journey through the town.

I was the only one who could end this suffering. How could I not?

"That knife-ear, she did it!"

"Burn her, Seeker, like my family burned!"

"Show no mercy to that savage!"

"Give her to us! Let her know the wrath of the people! Of the Maker!"

"Kill her!"

A man broke through the crowd of onlookers and tried to attack, the guards 'conveniently' looking away as he pulled out a kitchen knife.

"My wife! My children! Why? Why did you do this?" He roared, slashing his knife wildly in rage.

Cassandra stepped forward, "Enough, we are doing what we can," Cassandra glared at the guards nearby, "Take him away."

Cassandra hauled me forward, her forceful presence dissipating the crowd, "They have decided your guilt. The Divine, the Conclave, the Breach; they believe you are responsible, they need it."

As much as I wanted to rail against the injustice and proclaim my innocence, I understood. People were dead, more were dying because of demons, and fire was raining down from the heavens. Despair was rampant but only anger could spur people to action.

And now was the time to act.

"We must think beyond ourselves, beyond our race and differences and act," I jolted in surprise as Cassandra mirrored my thoughts, "Until the Breach is sealed."

She came to a stop as we exited the gates of Haven, "Will you aid us? Answer."

"It wasn't me," I repeated, "And if I must aid you to have you believe me, then I will."

Cassandra stared intensely, her eyes roving over my face, "There will be a trial, I can promise no more. Come."

She strode purposefully down the road but paused when she noticed I wasn't following. I took a moment to take stock; low mana, severe fatigue, possible concussion, psychosomatic pains and additional unhealed injuries.

I needed to be a miracle.

I needed a miracle to get through the day.

I closed my eyes and cast my mana through the Veil to reenergize. There was a sudden jolt, a tearing of the Veil and I abruptly stopped.

This isn't good.

"What were you doing?" Cassandra barked, storming towards me, "I felt that from here!"

"I-," My hand sparked again, lifting into the sky and I collapsed, gasping, "The Breach is expanding."

Cassandra helped me up, "The pulses are coming faster, we must hurry."

I calmed myself, thinking of all the times Desire had tormented me with different demons. Fear, Rage, Terror, Despair and so many more. I had overcome them all.

I will overcome them all. I must set my emotions aside.

I must. Act.

A battle calm settled over me.

I crossed the bridge, jumping over the broken crates and corpses lying on the ground. I ignored the wounded soldiers grunting in pain, the Chantry scholar that glared at me as he recited the Chant to a group of civilians and the corpses lining the stone floor.

Calm.

We raced through the gate, avoiding the barricades and dead bodies decorating the path as we climbed the hill. As we reached the second bridge, a meteor lit by green fire crashed onto the bridge, toppling it over like a deck of cards. Screams rent the air and Cassandra leaped down, desperate to save those she could.

I followed, pulling a man from underneath the debris before handing him off to the survivors. Another man was stuck under a boulder, his legs undoubtedly crushed from the weight, sobbing from the pain.

Levitate!

My magic stuttered before the spell finally took and I suppressed my anxiety about my failing magic as I lifted the boulder away from the buried man.

A hand fell on my shoulders and I turned to see Cassandra's gaze soften as she met mine, "We need to go. Only you can put a stop to this."

We treaded through the frozen river, climbing a hill before another meteor hit, breaking the ice along the river. A green light lit the area, a Shade spawning even as the light faded.

There was an anguished cry from the Shade.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra pushed me back, launching an unprovoked attack on the Shade. There was a shriek of rage and their fight began in earnest.

There was another shriek, and I twisted, finding another Shade making its way towards me.

It was a traumatised wisp, lashing out in confusion. That's what the Shade was.

And yet, violence begets violence.

I couldn't attempt to reason with a wisp that was beyond reason, in the same way that I couldn't reason with a human who was out to kill me. It was kill or be killed.

I picked up a sword lying discarded next to another corpse. I didn't bother with magic; I couldn't trust it wouldn't fail me, especially with its sudden instability.

I dodged the Shade's claws and slashed through its middle. As it groaned in pain, I circled around to its back and slashed down from the top of its head. There was another shriek before it dissipated, bits of essence falling to the floor.

This was a tragedy. A wisp was just a baby spirit, and I had killed a baby. A baby that lashed out in confusion. A wisp that turned into a Shade because of its intent.

I buried the grief. This Shade wasn't going to be the last.

Ignorance really is bliss.

Cassandra didn't confront me about my weapon. She passed me a long sidelong glance before tilting her head, "Let's go."

I soldiered on, trying to bury the surprise I felt at her sudden display of trust. There would be time to think later, if I survived this.

We ran along the river until we reached a staircase. A cabin on the side was on fire, and the fire had spread until it encompassed the staircase. Another pair of Shades attacked us, and we made quick work of them before strangling the fires at the staircase with the surrounding snow.

As we climbed up, I stumbled, but instead of finding purchase on the steps, I slipped, rolling down the staircase until I petered to a stop on the frozen river.

I couldn't get up. Exhaustion was weighing me down and to make matters worse, my hand sparked again, pulled in the direction of the Breach.

"Get up, we've almost reached the others!"

I struggled onto my knees, fighting the pain and fatigue.

Cassandra jerked me up before handing me a bottle, "Here, have this. It's the last remains of my energy potion."

I gulped it down, waiting for the artificial energy boost to kick in. While this would prove effective for now, when I crashed, I was going to crash hard.

If I lived through the day.

We trudged forwards, and we fought another group of Shades before climbing down the hill towards another staircase.

Suddenly a wraith blocked our path, casting balls of pure arcane energy at us.

A quick blow dissipated it, leaving behind dusty dreamer rags.

I gazed at it, confounded. Despite being the easiest things to overcome and kill both in and outside the Fade, wraiths perplexed me.

They could affect neither the Dreaming nor Waking and usually just scavenged off the remains of stronger spirits. But they were not spirits. Spirits, by definition, had impeccable control of the Fade, navigating its landscape and magic with seamless efficiency.

So, what were they?

"We're close to the rift, you can hear the fighting! Come on!"

We trudged up the hill and leaped down, altogether ignoring the collapsed bridge and broken junk lying scattered around. We crossed the shattered walls to find over ten people fighting.

Cassandra grasped my shoulder, "We must help them."

Yet as I grew closer, a sudden tingling pervaded my mana senses before my mana suddenly started to refill at a rapid rate. I wanted to help, but my attention was completely arrested by this anomaly. The glare of the sun receded, and a bright green light filled my vision. I resolutely ignored the aching pulsing of my left hand as I gazed at it.

A rift. An opening through the Veil.

Sometimes the obvious was so obvious that it was easily forgotten.

I cast healing magic, waiting for the stutter in my mana to disappear before healing my injuries.

All my injuries, and yet my mana wasn't even dented. Fatigue set in but was easily set aside by the energy potion.

I looked up to find the fight still going on and I sighed as even more Shades spawned while others were being killed.

There was no break between spawning from the Fade. If a spirit was passing through, then it would.

I threw away the iron sword, spawning a magical blade before fade-stepping around the battlefield, killing the remaining wraiths and shades with almost no effort.

Fade Cloak. Mage Armor. Shield. Reflective damage.

I was not usually this powerful, limited as I was by my mana, but with the Rift replenishing my mana at a nearly godly rate, I was near invincible.

I came to a stop beneath the Rift and suddenly someone grabbed my left arm.

Piercing light blue eyes glinted with undisguised hate and distress, "Quick, before more come through!"

He thrust my hand forward, a tingle running down my hand before agony seared it. That thing, the entity surged forth, drinking my mana greedily as green light rapidly connected with the Rift.

My mana regeneration dropped drastically even as the green light circled through the tear, patching it closed.

What was this?! "What did you do?" Even as I turned to the man, a subconscious deep-rooted terror robbed my voice.

"I did nothing, the credit is yours." Even as he said those words, his eyes conveyed mild disdain.

Fen'Harel.

I ran a quick look over him before staring desperately at the mark in my hand.

He was not handsome. His face was sunken, cheeks hollow and the skin around his eyes, an exhausted black. His clothes were threadbare and bloody, his bags the only possession with any semblance of quality. He looked every inch what he was pretending to be: an impoverished apostate hobo.

Another shudder of overwhelming terror washed over me, stealing my voice absolutely.

That his deception was so complete. Fen'Harel, the god of betrayal, or was it rebellion? Whatever it was, he was extremely skilled in deception.

Of course. He had all the time in the world, since he was an immortal god.

Some form of despairing hysteria overcame me, and I hid my face under my right hand as I started laughing, unable to hide its unhinged nature.

Any scheme I tried against him would fail spectacularly. How could I attempt to outwit someone who was renown for being the trickster god?

A fucking snowball's chance in hell that I would succeed.

"Easy there, while I understand why you're losing it, at least we won't be ass deep in demons forever," A deep voice rang out, coming to a stop next to me, "Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tagalong."

I struggled to gather myself, taking deep breaths to calm down. I looked up, finding a blonde dwarf garbed in a navy-blue shirt that was gaping open at his chest and a thick brown coat that swished at his ankles, "Erelani Arwen of Valo-kas."

I held out a hand and he flinched.

I retreated, "Here with the Chantry, or?" Why was he here?

There was a condescending laugh from behind me that I studiously ignored, "Was that a serious question?"

"Technically, I'm a prisoner. Just like you."

Cassandra growled, "I brought you in, so you could share your story with the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary."

"And yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering…"

I nodded at Varric, "Well met, Master Tethras."

The man behind me huffed, "You may reconsider that stance, in time. My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I'm pleased to see you still live."

I didn't turn around, resolutely facing Varric.

Varric eyed me, then Solas, "He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"

Turn around. Say something. Anything!

But all I managed was a half turn, only a portion of my face turned towards him, "Hn."

Varric sighed, "I'm sure we'll become friends in the valley."

Cassandra made a disapproving noise, "No Varric, while your help is appreciated-,"

"You need me, Seeker. You need all the help you can get."

Cassandra scoffed at Varric before turning to me, assessing, "Like you, Solas is an apostate. He volunteered his help."

I didn't know if that was a jab at me or Solas.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin."

I noted Solas turning towards me as he finished his spiel, cold calculation in his eyes as he waited for my response.

I was hyper aware of the fact that everyone had realized my reticence towards him.

Bury the fear. Bury the terror. Bury the rage.

Calm.

"He's right. Seeker, we need to move."

I dispelled the magical blade, picking up the sword I had discarded. The mark had drained my mana yet again and the refilling rate was abysmal.

"Well, Bianca's excited!"

AN:

Review please. Also please let me know if anyone is interested in being my beta:).