Dragon Age: The Veilguards

by AlessiaSky

Solas remains determined to tear down the Veil, putting all of Thedas in danger, after eight years. Rook, of the Antivan Crows, and Lavellan, the Inquisitor, must stop him before his self-destructive mission consumes him. Will they be able to save the world and Solas in time? Solas x Lavellan, Lucanis x Rook

15. Chapter 14

Rook

Rook placed the staff well on her back. The cool thing about being such a gifted mage is that she could make such curious weapons, like those.

She caressed the weapon distractedly. She had had it for so long that she didn't even remember, but it was a unique weapon: it could transform at will into her favorite daggers, almost instantly and with just a murmur of her magic, being an effectively deadly weapon.

It was worth it, knowing how much it cost her to find it.

Then, she turned around, looking ahead. They were in front of that curious Eluvian through which she had arrived. The mirror emitted a ghostly murmur, as if it were happy to see them, which only increased Rook's suspicions that this place seemed to have a life of its own.

Next to her, Neve, Harding and Lavellan sighed at the same time, nervous. Rook looked at them out of the corner of her eye.

None of the four wanted to approach that strange eluvian, and rightly so. But what was done, was done. They had no choice but to try, if they wanted to leave the Lighthouse. She turned to them, with her hands on her hips.

-Okay, who goes first? - she asked, with a smile from side to side, with optimism.

They looked at her, without answering, but each with a raised eyebrow. Rook groaned, understanding those looks.

-Come on, man. Always me - she complained aloud, raising her hands.

Well, whatever. Here we go. She sighed and, with some hesitation, approached the eluvian, still without crossing it. Damn leader complex, she criticized herself inside, staying a few steps from the mirror, which showed the forest of Arlathan in its totally calm reflection.

-It seems like he knows where we want to go - Neve commented with curiosity. Rook raised her hand, slowly, touching the mirror slightly.

-I, as long as it doesn't dismember me, I'm happy - she murmured with some sarcasm. Then, she breathed in and crossed, praying to all the gods she knew to cross to the other side safely.

---

One by one, they crossed the Eluvian, Lavellan being the last, because she had a strange reticence before the mirror. On the other side, they were greeted by the murmur of the forests, which were being caressed by a light, calm wind. You could hear the birds, chirping calmly. Rook raised her head towards the sun, happy to receive some natural light.

-It worked. And I'm whole - Rook commented, happily. Then, she looked ahead, pointing to a place known to all-. There is the ritual area. Good news, at last.

But, as always, she spoke prematurely. A loud crash, followed by alarmed screams, altered them, making them take a defensive posture, taking out their weapons.

-Why do you talk, Rook? - Lavellan asked her with amusement, mocking Rook slightly, who could only shrug.

-What do you want me to tell you, the luck of the rookie - she said, in a murmur, making the elf laugh.

Then, three people came out from further ahead, in a hurry, as if something was following them. They seemed to be three Dalish elves, in view of their attire, who were fleeing in fear from a kind of mechanical figure, huge, which in turn held an axe that was not short in size. One of the elves was holding a kind of core, bright, that responded to the movements of the automaton. After a quick fight, the elves destroyed the core, saving one of them, who had fallen, from being severed by the mechanical statue.

Saved by the bell, Rook couldn't help thinking, as they approached them, trying to provide friendly assistance. One of the elves, the oldest, looked at them in surprise, stopping at Harding, who emitted a happy squeal upon seeing them up close.

-Strife? Irelin? It's me, Lace Harding- Harding approached them, happy. Strife, the elf who seemed older, put his weapon away upon identifying her, confusion painting his face and making his vallaslin wrinkle.

-Harding? What are you doing in Arlathan again? - he asked, with a voice grave with age.

-It's complicated - the dwarf replied, with a nervous giggle at his question.

-I see, I see - Strife crossed his arms, curious about her response and her nervousness.

Harding looked at her companions, raising an arm towards the elf.

-I present to you Strife and Irelin. Varric and I met them at the beginning of the search for Solas. They are Veil explorers, experts in ancient elven magic.

Rook approached them, extending a friendly hand, while introducing herself.

-Nice to meet you, my name is Rook - she said, making a small elegant bow. Next to her, Neve smiled at them, with a slight movement of her head.

-Neve here.

Lavellan, in return, who had put on her hood as soon as she left the eluvian, remained silent, like a tomb. She adjusted her hood well, while nodding towards the elves, seeing only the lower part of her lips through her cover. Rook was surprised, frowning.

How strange. Still, she didn't want to give it importance. Perhaps the elf was shy in the presence of unknown people, she said to herself, although the little voice inside her laughed at her.

Yeah, right, the Inquisitor intimidated by strangers. Something didn't fit in that equation.

-Excuse the welcome- commented Irelin, the elf next to Strife. Her black hair, short like Rook's, shook, when she moved her head sadly-. Magic has been out of control since the ritual performed by Fen'Harel... I mean, Solas - she corrected herself quickly.

-What you were going to stop, right? - Strife asked them, without malice, but something critical, while raising an eyebrow towards them.

Rook rubbed her neck, with some discomfort at his gaze.

-More or less, we did it. Now Solas is locked up, but...-she hesitated, not knowing whether to tell him. She shrugged a few seconds after reflecting on it. She didn't think that telling it or not would make a difference. She crossed her arms, frowning-. Now Solas is not the problem. Two of the elven gods, Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, are loose out there, possibly wreaking havoc, according to the Dread Wolf himself.

-That's why magic is out of control - murmured Irelin, thoughtfully, while she averted her gaze towards the forest, which had a strange murmur among the trees.

-Shit. The evanuris-said with more gravity Strife, understanding how bad the situation was-. Now everything fits.

-Is it really that bad? - Rook asked, although, inside, she didn't want to know.

No one liked to know the consequences of their mistakes.

-If you think Solas is an asshole... -Strife let out a dry, cutting laugh-. At least, he had his reasons to rebel against them. And I can assure you that they were very valid reasons - he informed her, crossing his arms.

At that, Rook placed her hands on her hip, thoughtfully. She had read something about the mysterious Dread Wolf, when she received her contract from her master. It was said that, at the time, he helped thousands and thousands of elves in ancient times, although it was never described in what way. In addition, the ancient writings used to paint him as someone malicious, deceptive, capable of deceiving even the elven gods themselves, even though he himself was one of them.

Otherwise, all the writings were confusing, between continuous contradictions. Perhaps she should take advantage of that occasion, having him in her head, to know him better, Rook said to herself, thoughtfully.

But could she trust someone who was called the God of Deceit? she wondered, with sarcasm. Although, to be honest, there was always another possibility...

She looked out of the corner of her eye at Lavellan, who was hidden by her hood. Rook smiled maliciously.

What better informant than who was united to the god himself in a loving way, even if it was under a deception. She bet whatever that Lavellan had investigated much more than her in all these years of searching. She would have to approach her at any time in search of more information about the god.

Suddenly, the companion of the Veil explorers, Strife and Irelin, who had been on the ground resting his wounds groaned in pain, unable to help it. Irelin crouched down, trying to calm him.

-We must go back, Strife. Tarith is injured - she asked, her hands shining over Tarith while she performed a simple spell to calm his pain.

-But there are still explorers that we haven't found - Strife argued with her, frowning, looking towards the forest-. We can't leave without looking for them first.

That's her opportunity, Rook thought. If she helped them, maybe they could give them some information later that the team might need. In addition, of course, she wasn't going to stand idly by, while she could help them.

Habits of being the Weaver and helping others from a young age, she supposed, shrugging mentally.

"That's my little one," her inner voice said, proudly, making Rook smile slightly.

But how foolish he was, she thought sweetly.

-How can we help? - she asked the explorers, with kindness and sincerity in her tone.

-We are in the search for Bellara Lutare, one of the most experts in ancient artifacts. She almost knows how to disable anything as long as it is elven - Irelin informed her, standing up and intertwining her hands, looking at them.

-Or blow them up, depends on the day - Strife commented with sarcasm, unable to avoid it, while looking at his partner, amused.

Irelin rolled her eyes, accompanying him in his fun, but continued, without answering him.

-She was exploring the forest when Solas's ritual unleashed all the magic - Irelin frowned, looking back at the trees-. That was three days ago already. We need her because, as you saw, - she paused, gesturing towards the mechanical statue-, many artifacts are getting out of control. And the artifacts usually have ancient sentinels nearby, who don't distinguish between ally or enemy.

They nodded, in agreement with the explorer. Certainly, they seemed dangerous. And history had been in charge of showing that the ancient elves made things to last...and very dangerous.

-Okay, you take your explorer to the camp and we... - Neve interrupted herself with a groan of pain, bringing her hand to her head, making the whole team avert her eyes towards her, with concern. After a few seconds, she shook it and continued, with a somewhat more tense voice-. We will find Bellara. I assure you.

Rook observed her seriously, evaluating the state of her friend. Then, she brought a finger to her lower lip, thoughtfully, while tapping it, devising a strategy. She had to convince her to stay with the explorers without it seeming like that, so as not to offend her, knowing that the detective was somewhat proud.

-Hey, Neve. Go with them to the camp - she ordered, using the leader tone that Lavellan liked so much. The elf looked at her slightly, with a little smile, but remained silent.

Neve observed her, somewhat annoyed, knowing where the shots were going in that order.

-Rook...-she warned her, lengthening her name on purpose, with tension.

-It's not what you think - Rook raised her hands in peace, trying to convince the ice mage-. You are the best private detective from here to a kilometer away. There is no person more qualified than you to help them look for the other lost explorers, even if it is from the camp - she approached her, poking a friendly elbow in her side-. Come on, Neve. You know it's true. And maps are sure to be great for you.

Neve looked at her, distrustfully. She emitted a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment, but nodded, conformed.

-Okay, I'm going with them.

Strife smiled at their little discussion. Then, he pointed towards a certain part of the forest.

-We'll see you at the Veil explorers camp. It's to the south, a little further than here. Anyway, if you find Bellara, she can tell you - he commented, mentioning his lost friend. After, he crossed his arms-. The last time we saw her, she was in some elven ruins to the west, investigating a certain artifact. I would start the search there.

-Good luck, Rook. And thank you - Irelin continued the words of her fellow explorer, smiling.

Then, Strife and company, along with Neve, headed south, in pursuit of the rest of their companion, while they said goodbye to them.

Rook nodded to her and along with her companions, headed west, in search of Bellara Lutare, the mysterious missing Veil explorer.

---

Sliding, Rook landed near the area where they should start looking for Bellara. She rolled her ankles a little, while Lavellan fell next to her, with the elegance of someone who had been doing it for years. Rook looked at her, somewhat envious, but unable to avoid smiling.

Always so elegant the Inquisitor, who would have thought.

With the jump, Lavellan's hood came off a little, seeing some of her white hair, but she put it back on quickly, without waiting long, as she got up and shook her sleeves. Rook looked at her, curious about this behavior.

-Why do you cover yourself, Inquisitor? - she asked, pointing to her hood.

Lavellan looked at her sideways, shrugging.

-You've already seen me. I stand out too much, even among the elves - she slid a finger on her daggers, which she carried hanging at her waist-. And call me Lavellan, please. I insist.

-Do you stand out more than a forest elf without vallaslin and with natural pink hair, Lavellan? - Rook asked her, taking her offer and touching her own hair. Lavellan nodded, with a wry smile.

-I don't have a vallaslin either, despite being a dalish elf. And your hair is quite pretty, to be natural - she praised her, looking at her directly.

Rook blushed slightly, at the compliment, but let out a giggle.

-Okay, you win. Your secret, your rules. -Rook raised her hands, in a sign of peace. But she pointed at her next, without missing the occasion.

-But, in exchange, another question-she crossed her hands behind her back, looking at her with a somewhat evil smile-How was Solas?

Lavellan stopped, abruptly.

-Excuse me? - she said, blinking rapidly under her hood. Harding, next to her, looked at Rook, confused.

-What's that question for?

Rook shrugged.

-We always talk about the Dread Wolf as a strange identity, but he was really there, with you. You know him. And I want to have information about him, to know how to treat him - she touched her head, tapping it- Remember that I have him inside here, or should I ask him for a postcard next time? - she asked them, with sarcasm.

Harding snorted, amused, but Lavellan clenched her fists, averting her gaze.

-It's been ten years since he was in the Inquisition and eight since the last time I talked to him face to face, Rook. And he was never entirely honest - she looked at the trees, her eyes shining slightly under the indirect light of the sun that filtered through the leaves-. Everything I tell you may not be true at all.

Rook patted her shoulder, optimistic.

-A Crow is satisfied with any kind of information, whether it is false or not. I will classify it later.

Lavellan sighed heavily. She started to walk, while her eyes blurred a little, as if she was sailing in her memories.

-Solas...-she cleared her throat a little, correcting herself instantly-. I mean, Fen'Harel was always...-she hesitated a little, looking for the right word.

Rook came to the rescue, crossing her arms to her neck.

-Silent? Sarcastic? Terribly arrogant? - she offered, mockingly. Lavellan looked at her, tilting a smile.

-Yes to all that, but he was also kind. Careful. He treated everyone equally and never lost his temper, unless it was a situation that was too serious. And, even so, I only saw him do it a few times - said the Inquisitor, in a low voice, with some sweetness and bitterness in her tone. Harding nodded, in agreement with her words.

-I couldn't get to know him that much, but the times I interacted with him, he was always worried about my health, and offered me different remedies for tiredness - Harding frowned slightly, making her freckles wrinkle a little-. Really, he was very considerate. That's why him being Fen'Harel is so...

-Strange? - Lavellan whispered, continuing the dwarf's words, who nodded to that. Lavellan clenched her teeth, slightly.

-He was always like that. But he knew how to hide it - she said, bitterly. Rook raised an eyebrow, confused.

-But you just said that he was kind, considerate...

-And arrogant. Sarcastic. You yourself said it, rightly. And the Dread Wolf is precisely that - Lavellan rebuked her-. Although he was kind and wise, he really only considered the spirits as friends, being the only ones he really liked to converse with.

-Well, although he also talked a lot with you, Inquisitor - Harding corrected her, who received an indecipherable look from Lavellan. The dwarf only shrugged-. It's the truth.

Lavellan coughed, with a slight blush.

-Well, you're right. But, mostly, it was with the spirits.

-Like Cole - Harding nodded. After, she looked at Rook-. Cole was an old friend of ours, a spirit who helped the Inquisition at the time.

Rook brought a hand to her chin, thoughtfully.

-Then, we can say that Solas was a walking contradiction, from what I understand - she murmured, almost to herself.

Lavellan laughed, quietly.

-Yes. He was... It's a contradiction - she sighed, tremulously-. But it's a contradiction that always helped. That always helped me. He knew how to put my feet on the ground. He knew how to correct me when I was wrong, and praise me when I did well, using his wisdom as a double-edged sword. And he was one of the few who knew when I was wrong, knowing how to comfort me in his own way - she clenched her fists, slightly-. And I fell like a fool for that kindness, for that comfort he gave me.

Rook frowned, somewhat sadly.

-Lavellan...

Suddenly, Harding raised a hand, abruptly interrupting the conversation.

-Wait - she remained silent for a few seconds, looking around. Her companions tensed, bringing their hands to their weapons. The dwarf addressed them, but without averting her gaze from the forest- Don't you notice that there is a fog... something strange?

Rook swallowed, also looking around. They walked a little through the forest, uneasy.

The dwarf was right. There was a strange fog, which was not like others, white and thick, but almost invisible, even deforming the space, as if the light when passing through it was diverted in a strange way. Rook nodded, narrowing her eyes.

-It's like the environment is... changed. It's weird - she told them, in a low voice, unsure of speaking.

Out of nowhere, a metallic noise of footsteps made them alert. Rook took the staff from her back, preparing her magic, while Harding and Lavellan took out their bow and daggers, respectively.

An ancient sentinel, like the one that had attacked Strife and Irelin before, approached them with a heavy step, mechanically, with a threatening air. Upon seeing them, he raised his axe, ready to attack. Rook smiled slyly at this, crouching slightly, as she cracked her ankles.

-Looks like we have company - she said, pointing with her head to the sentinel.

Next to her, Lavellan took a breath, slowly, as she took a step forward.

-Do you allow me? I need to let off some steam - she asked, making a slight turn with her daggers.

Rook looked at her, curious about her initiative, straightening up slightly. Harding, for her part, smiled, and lowered the bow with confidence, as if she knew that Lavellan was not going to need her help. Rook averted her gaze towards her, who only returned her shrugging.

-The Inquisitor is very capable, you'll see.

Rook blinked slowly. It is true that she had seen the Inquisitor fight in the middle of all the chaos of the ritual, but those memories were diffuse, blurred, so she had never really seen her fight seriously. But, apparently, that was going to change soon.

In an instant, Lavellan threw one of the daggers at the sentinel, who stepped back, amazed, seeing how the dagger was stuck in the ground, in front of her. Rook raised one of her eyebrows, incredulously. She looked at Harding, pointing to the dagger.

-Very capable, losing one of her weapons and...?

In the blink of an eye, Lavellan disappeared, with a sigh. Rook took a step back, breathing in and looking everywhere.

-What the hell?

It was impossible. In one moment, Lavellan had been there and in another, she wasn't, as if she had never existed. Maybe she had used magic?

But, then, she saw her.

Smoothly, she appeared in front of the sentinel, ripping the dagger from the ground. With a couple more movements, she broke one of the arms, dislodging it from the axis and with a kick, she destabilized it. With the same speed as before, she climbed on top of him, in two jumps, sticking the dagger in his chest without giving him time to react with his axe.

The sentinel emitted an electrical noise but, in a few seconds, he remained still.

Rook closed her mouth, which had remained open throughout the show, astonished.

She swallowed, noisily. All that display of power had been in just a few minutes, demonstrating the pure skill of the Inquisitor, who stood over the sentinel, looking at him expressionlessly.

Strength, speed and not having pity. A lethal combination for a person with so much power.

And Rook had been right when, in her dream with Solas, she felt her as a tremendously dangerous presence. Rightly so everyone feared the Inquisition, despite having been almost completely absorbed by the Chantry. With someone like that in command...

Lavellan could dominate the country she wanted, without a doubt. And only her morals stood in that way, Rook realized, fixing her gaze on her. And that's why she had seen that look of fear in Solas in the ritual, before everything went to shit.

At that moment, Lavellan turned around, interrupting her thoughts. Her gaze, previously inexpressive, cleared up a bit when looking at them, as if when fighting it hadn't been herself. In a turn, she put her daggers in the holster and began to walk towards them. A sparkle caught Rook's attention.

In the neck of the Inquisitor, a strange necklace could now be seen. Rook narrowed her eyes, analyzing it.

It was a black wolf fang. Curious.

Lavellan arrived where they were, while rearranging her hood, which had fallen in the fight. Rook crossed her arms and tilted her head, with a little smile.

-By chance, would you be interested in joining the Antivan Crows? You would be a good assassin and you would have many contracts. And a lot of money. And fewer responsibilities - Rook raised her hand, making the universal gesture of money with her fingers, while moving her eyebrows up and down, suggestively.

She had to recruit the talents when she found one. And Lavellan was a talent in herself, of course. Harding gave her a blow on the arm, while Lavellan laughed slightly. Rook looked at Harding and shrugged, rubbing her arm.

-What? You have to take advantage of the opportunities that destiny plants you. I just listen to it.

Harding rolled her eyes, amused at her suggestion. Still, Lavellan had no time to answer her. She brought her hand to one of her daggers, taking it out quickly, when she heard a metallic noise behind her. Harding brought one of her hands to the bow, which she was not going to have time to unsheathe.

-Careful! - she exclaimed trying to warn the Inquisitor.

Behind her, the sentinel had stood up, ready to take his revenge, as if the magic around him had revived him. Lavellan raised one of the daggers, while turning around, ready to stick it, until he stopped moving.

But the sentinel stood still, staggering, with his axe raised, without reaching to lower it. A magic, bluish, imprisoned him without pity, making him stir, without success.

-Ha! I have you!

A pleasant little voice came from behind the monster, making the team direct their gaze towards her, confused.

Behind the paralyzed sentinel, a small elf with a huge bun, on top of a rock, extended one of her hands, which shone with an artifact, a kind of huge bracelet attached to her arm. With a slight gesture she made, the sentinel fell to the ground, deactivating forever. A small orb of light came out of the automaton, which went to the elf, slowly. When she arrived, she raised her arm, absorbing it with the bracelet.

-You're mine now! - the elf shouted with joy, giving some small applauses.

In front, a few steps away from her, Lavellan put her daggers away, curious, placing herself next to Rook, who had put her hands on her hip.

-An elven bracelet - murmured the Inquisitor, putting her gaze on the arm of the strange elf. Rook nodded, in agreement.

Immediately, upon hearing Lavellan's whisper, the elf looked at them, surprised, as if she had not noticed their presence until now.

Which was quite probable, seeing her undeniable enthusiasm.

-Oops! People! - she exclaimed, covering her mouth with surprise.

With a jump, she came down from the rock where she had perched, nimbly. After, she stayed in front of them, with a big smile.

-Hello! - she greeted them, raising a friendly hand.

-Bellara? Bellara Lutare? - Rook asked her, returning the smile.

-The same in flesh, bone and artifact - she replied, raising the bracelet. Rook sighed, relieved.

Wow. Apparently the search had been quite quick. And Bellara was alive.

One point in favor of them.

-We come to look for you on behalf of the Veil Explorers - Rook explained, raising a hand. Bellara looked at them, one by one, while intertwining her fingers and began to move them between them, in some kind of tic.

-Who are you, exactly?

-Call me Rook- the pink-haired girl pointed to herself, with a wide smile.

-Lace Harding- Harding introduced herself, with a gesture of her head.

-Lavellan - Lavellan this time introduced herself politely, unlike with the other veil explorers, which made Rook look at her out of the corner of her eyes, puzzled.

Yes, something was failing here, and she didn't know what. And that bugged her quite a bit.

-I don't understand - frowning, confused, Bellara adjusted the bracelet, moving it slightly on her arm-. The protocol dictates that the search for an explorer will only take place one week after his disappearance. And it's only been three days - she raised three fingers, emphasizing the number, with a little pout.

Rook twisted her face a little, not knowing how to tell her the bad news.

-The situation has changed... for worse. In a quick summary, the elven gods Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain have escaped and Solas is no longer a problem...for the moment.

Bellara blinked rapidly, assimilating the news.

-Well, it is for worse - she took a little air, lowering her head- Okay, okay. I just need a moment.

-The one you need, although, if I'm honest, the sooner the better - Rook confessed to her, regretfully, watching as the elf began to walk from side to side.

-I know, I know, but this would explain many things - Bellara replied, stopping for a moment and raising her hands slightly, making a gesture.

-What do you mean? - Harding asked the elf, curiously. Bellara looked at her and pointed around her, as if she wanted to encompass the entire forest in her hands.

-The fog. One day, the artifacts started to activate. First, there were one here, another there... Nothing unusual, erratically. But, suddenly, the sky split in two and a wave of pure magic appeared suddenly - she opened her arms, excited, while her chatter accelerated a little-. That can only have been provoked by one... or two gods - she lowered her voice, as if she were telling a secret out loud. Lavellan tilted her head, seeing the elf's enthusiasm.

-Aren't you scared? - she asked, placing a hand on her hip, imitating her pink-haired friend. Bellara twisted her face at that question and raised a hand, leaving two fingers almost touching.

-A little bit. But it's exciting. Anyway I was going back to the camp, because, you know, this is getting dangerous, but... - she turned her hand, stopping talking as if the team knew what she was going to say.

But it wasn't so. They were just looking at Bellara, with some strangeness, but without avoiding the sympathy they felt towards the elf.

She was weird, yes, but in a way her chatter was adorable, Rook couldn't help thinking. She raised a hand, urging her to continue.

-But? - she asked her, with haste.

Bellara pointed forward, where the fog seemed to be a little thicker.

-Do you see that glow? That's a bubble of the Veil. It makes us separate from the real world, so to speak. It wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't that once you cross it in one direction, you can't go back. And that's why I haven't come back before, of course - she specified as if it were necessary.

-That paints badly - Rook lamented, worried.

What they needed. They got into one to get into an even worse one. Today destiny was funny with them.

Today and these previous days, of course.

-Well, there is a solution - Bellara placed her hands behind her back, giving them hope-. A bubble of that size must have something in the center that is generating it. We just have to destroy it... with care.

-And that's how we'll get back to reality? - Harding asked her, somewhat nervous.

-My theory is that yes - Bellara affirmed, placing a loose hair behind her pointed ears.

-We know our next goal, then. Are you joining us Bellara? - Rook asked the elf, with enthusiasm, although she knew that it was rather a somewhat foolish question.

Bellara had to join them anyway, that's why they had come. They set off, under the directions of their new elf companion, who was delighted to finally have more company to talk to.

---

They continued a little further through the forest, fighting against more sentinels and automatons and solving some puzzles, typical of the ancient elven ruins, while heading to where Bellara indicated, to get out of that bubble of magic. Rook and company stopped in several places, fascinated by what they saw.

The forest of Arlathan, which had formerly been the capital of the ancient elves, had changed abruptly because of the residual magic of the ritual. There were floating rocks, strange beings that shone, harmless. Everything was oozing magic now, from the fallen leaf of a tree, to the most boring stone you could find. They even saw a "whirlwind" , a name that Bellara had provided them, which was nothing more than a magical anomaly that rarely occurred, although on this occasion its probability of occurring had increased exponentially. This whirlwind was nothing more than water that went upwards, against gravity, which made Rook want to touch it. She resisted, strongly, but looked at it, fascinated.

God, she would save that idea for later. Maybe she could replicate it with her magic.

Further ahead, after opening a door, Bellara gasped, enthusiastically, as if she had found a great treasure on the other side.

-Wait, this place...! - she murmured, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Rook looked ahead and peeked through the door, curious about what she had found on the other side. They had given to a small balcony, with some precious views. To the left of the balcony continued the path they were following, decidedly. Rook noticed what could be seen through the balcony, a little beyond where they were. An elven temple was seen in the distance, something large. Rook calculated the distance, quickly.

It didn't seem to be very far from where they were right now.

She diverted her gaze towards Bellara, who was observing that temple as if Mythal herself had fallen in front of her to greet her. Rook frowned, confused.

The view was certainly impressive, of course, but she didn't think it deserved as much enthusiasm as Bellara was having. She advanced to Rook, leaning on the railing of the balcony and leaning out to see the temple better. She pointed to it, while looking at them, with a glint in her eyes.

-There! There we will find the artifact we are looking for!

That's why her enthusiasm then.

The team didn't wait any longer. With a quick step, they went deeper into the forest, crossing it in the direction of the temple.

They all shared the same thought. They had to get out of there as soon as possible.

Without warning, when reaching a clearing, Bellara, who was in front, leading the march, stopped abruptly.

In front of her, some beings devoured a halla, a sacred deer of the forests of Arlathan. The noises they emitted were grotesque, even disgusting, making Rook's face wrinkle with disgust. Their eyes shone with a reddish color, similar to blood, while their skin was wrinkled, ashen, giving them a look of undead, although they didn't remotely resemble anything humanoid except in the bipedal form.

Far from those who were devouring the Halla, two more were shouting at each other, like animals without reasoning. Lavellan emitted a whistle between her teeth, furious, seeing them, as she reached for her dagger.

-Darkspawn.

As soon as she released those words, the darkspawn turned towards them, as if they had heard her, despite being somewhat far away. They began to shout, wild, unleashed. Harding fired an arrow and knocked one of them down without further delay.

-We can't let them escape or it will be much worse for the forest.

Rook launched a lightning bolt at the other two, defeating them easily, while Lavellan reached them with her daggers, killing the ones that remained alive. They didn't even have the opportunity to counterattack, before the team reduced them to what they should be.

Corpses.

Bellara approached them, seeing how they turned to ashes, after being defeated.

-Darkspawn. Here. I would have never imagined it - she observed them, with some bewilderment-. Until today.

-It will be better if we continue to get out of here as soon as possible - commented with gravity Rook, starting to walk.

They followed the path for a few more minutes, in total silence, worried about the presence of the darkspawn. Bellara deactivated a few more artifacts, giving them way, but not without battling a little more, appearing more darkspawn from all over. Upon finishing one of the battles, Harding placed the bow on her back while commenting, aloud:

-I had never seen darkspawn in the forest of Arlathan.

-As far as I know, it's the first time- Bellara supported her comment, with some concern.

-Could it be that the gods are controlling them somehow through corruption? - Harding questioned, resting a hand on her chin, thoughtfully.

-I'll bet my good arm that yes - assured Lavellan, firmly, pointing to her prosthesis.

-In addition, these were different. Rarer. New - Bellara punctuated to their ramblings, trying to establish a correct logic.

Rook frowned, while looking at the ground. She moved her head from one side to another, trying to clear her head a little, while rubbing between her eyebrows.

-Whatever, let's keep moving forward. There isn't much left to get to the temple - Rook gestured for them to follow her. A few minutes later, after deactivating another amplifier, thanks to Bellara, they began to see the beginning of the elven runes, which had a blackish tone, unnatural.

-Corruption - Lavellan crouched down, approaching the black and living roots that ran through the entire wall. They also ran along the ground, as if it were an infection.

Rook thought that that thought was not so far from reality.

---

Lavellan raised an arm, but did not touch the roots. Her hand emitted a faint greenish, bluish light, while she frowned.
—It's like... it's feeding on elven magic— she murmured, while that light disappeared from her hand. Bellara nodded, in agreement. She approached Lavellan, happily, crouching beside her.
—I see that you also know a lot about elven artifacts. And about corruption, by the way— she spoke to her, with that enthusiasm that was starting to be typical of the elf.
Lavellan got up, moving away from the corruption and from Bellara in turn.
—I've had a lot of time to... study them. And fight them— she said, without looking at her.
—A distant explorer companion, maybe?— Bellara asked her, as she followed her along the path, behind Harding and Rook.
Lavellan shook her head, lowering her hood a little, while fanning herself, slightly. Bellara took the opportunity to look at her, opening her eyes slightly at the beauty of the elf.
—No. I'm a Dalish elf. The Lavellan clan traveled through the Free Marches, settling in different places— she explained, although some hatred filtered into her voice, which she didn't explain why.
—Oh, a Southern relative, then!— then, she looked up and down Lavellan's face, who shrank a little, uncomfortable with the observation. Bellara tilted a smile, realizing, while apologizing with her eyes. Even so, the elf's curiosity for Lavellan won over her apology.
—But what about your Vallaslin? I thought you were very traditional in those parts. You know, honoring the gods and all that— she said, while pointing to her own face, marked by the vallaslin dedicated to Dirthamen, the elven god of secrets and knowledge.
Lavellan touched her face, grazing it slightly while a sadness settled in her expression, deep, with pain. Her gaze blurred, obscuring the beautiful colors of her eyes, who were nailed to Bellara.
—I offered it to someone who promised me freedom— she whispered, love and sorrow wandering through her tone, conveying a deep wound.
Bellara stopped dead in her tracks at her words, which made Rook and Harding, who were further ahead talking, stop, confused.
—Is that even possible? Offer the vallaslin?— Bellara asked her, confused, with her eyes wide as saucers, while touching her own face.
Lavellan observed her in silence, without answering. Her eyes gleamed under the light that filtered from the trees, showing that bluish pink hue that characterized her so much. The intensity of her gaze froze Bellara, who could only swallow at her, intimidated as a moth before an intense light.

---

—Is something wrong, people?
Rook approached her companions, worried, who had stopped abruptly.
She had been listening very superficially to the conversation, but it was the abrupt stop of Bellara and the Inquisitor's gaze that made her approach, worried.
What had happened?, she thought, while observing them, thinking about whether she should act.
The Inquisitor seemed like a statue, while nailing her gaze on Bellara, who had only remained still, looking at her as if she were paralyzed, intimidated by the elf.
Then, after a few tense seconds, Lavellan looked away from Bellara. She looked at Rook, slowly, while her eyes gleamed, with a small green glow.
—No. Let's continue— she replied to the pink-haired elf. Without saying anything else, she advanced, even passing Harding, in a few strides, all in absolute silence.
Wow, it seems that something had not sat well with the elf. Probably, some question related to Solas.
Rook frowned, somewhat worried about her, but without fully understanding it.
Had the god really hurt her so much that she didn't even want to talk about him? It seemed strange to her. But it is true that she did not have the entire context of the situation, she told herself, while tapping her waist with her finger, thoughtfully.
Bellara placed herself next to them, lowering her gaze and intertwining her hands.
—I'm sorry. I didn't think that a question about her vallaslin was going to bother her so much— she apologized, in a low voice.
Harding sighed deeply, without taking her eyes off Lavellan, who was waiting for them further ahead, hugging herself, while raising her eyes to the trees.
—Don't take it into account, Bellara. She used to... not be like this— Harding replied, trying to calm the explorer, who nodded, understanding the dwarf's point.
Rook raised her eyebrows, skeptical at her words. She couldn't see Lavellan in any other way.
—Really? No "I'm going to cut my veins" or anything like that? Because that seems to be her personality day by day— Rook whispered to the dwarf, in a certain secrecy.
Harding gave her a stern look, causing Rook to shrink a little.
Wow, she had angered Harding. Oops.
—Lavellan was the first to offer to help. She was an example for many ten years ago, especially among her fellow elves, repudiated in many parts. She was a light within a war between templars and mages and an immutable hope— the dwarf scolded her, raising a finger. Afterwards, she sighed deeply, shaking her head— Until Solas left. And everything went to hell.
—Harding.
Lavellan raised her voice, calling her attention. Then, she fixed her gaze, hard, on the dwarf, silencing her abruptly.
—We have to continue— she said, and turned around, starting to walk.
Rook raised an eyebrow at that.
Lavellan, the same one who had asked Harding not to bow before her and to speak to her normally, had made use of her authority without hesitation. Really, this topic must sting her.
Solas and her lack of vallaslin were related. And Rook wanted to find out, her curiosity rising like a whirlwind inside her. But, first, she would have to convince Lavellan, since she was not going to force her to talk about something she didn't want to.
"Don't force her, little one. She will speak, in due time. Trust her", her particular little voice told her, with some sadness. Rook nodded towards her little voice, in agreement, and started to walk behind Lavellan, in silence.
Harding sighed again at the Inquisitor's attitude, but set off, in silence, while Bellara sighed and followed them, not really understanding what she had done wrong.

---

After a few minutes of silent walking, somewhat tense, Bellara observed the buildings that were starting to appear more and more, trying to locate herself.
—If I'm not mistaken... it's this way. We're almost there. The artifact is close— she informed them, nodding herself to her own conclusions.
—And what exactly are we looking for?— jumping agilely over an obstacle, Rook asked her, curious about what they were looking for. In the end, they had never known what it was about. And Rook liked to know what the hell they were looking for, after so much walking.
—The spirit of the archive. Or, as the ancient elves called it, The "Nadas Dirthalen"— at Harding's confused face, she smiled, enthusiastic to be able to share her knowledge—. It means the "inevitability of knowledge".
—And what does that mean? Because the "inevitability of knowledge" tells me nothing, at least— Harding asked her, even more confused.
—I don't know— Bellara shook her head, sadly, unable to offer her an answer—. The research notes never specified that.
Then, a murmur rose among them, interrupting them.
—The obligation of knowledge— Lavellan replied, in a low voice. All of them looked at her, confused by what she had said. Lavellan cleared her throat, slightly, and looked at Bellara with some timidity.
Ah, Rook smiled when she saw that look. Lavellan wanted to apologize and didn't know how. How cute she is.
—I don't know exactly what this... archive will contain— Lavellan continued, lowering her gaze slightly, while offering those words of peace—. But the less literal meaning of that phrase is the "Obligation of knowledge", that is, whatever it has, must be known by whoever "reads" it and transmitted appropriately to others.
—Now you have sounded like Solas— Harding commented, unable to avoid it. Lavellan smiled gracefully, after a few seconds.
—I'm almost going to take it as a compliment.

---

They bypassed a couple more doors, finally entering the building they had seen in the distance. Ruin was in every room, rotting everything, like the infection it was, killing even what was not alive. They advanced until they came to a more spacious room, even with a more ancient, more elegant appearance. In the center, there seemed to be some kind of small artifact, a small pillar that stood out from everything else. Bellara approached it enthusiastically, almost skipping with excitement.
—This is it! The Nadas Dirthalen— she said, circling the pillar, while observing it, with enthusiasm overflowing through her skin.
—So, we take it and go home, right?— Rook crossed her arms, impatient to leave that place. She already wanted to rest a bit, because the walk had been intense. Between darkspawn, automatons and ruin, Rook thought the day was quite complete.
She needed a rest, because it had barely been a day since the ritual. And, between Solas stuck in her head, Varric's wound, meeting the Inquisitor herself, helping the Veil's explorers, having to try to ignore her wounds, both her mind and her body only screamed at her to go to sleep now.
But she would still have to wait a little. Come on, Rook, she encouraged herself. You've had it worse, she said to herself, with some dark grace.
Bellara turned her gaze to her, shaking her head.
—It's not that simple, unfortunately. If I remove it just like that, we'll explode half of Arlathan, us included— she made a gesture with her hands, imitating an explosion, while making the noise.
Rook raised her eyes to the ceiling, in a desperate prayer to nothing.
—Tell me there is good news— Rook begged the explorer.
—The good news— Bellara smiled at her— is that I think I can divert the energy elsewhere.
Her bracelet lit up with a beautiful bluish light. Then, in a flash, it divided into small triangles, which began to float around the explorer's arm. Bellara raised her hands, causing the archive to start shining in turn, reacting to her magic.
—It's strange— she closed her eyes, to be able to concentrate. They began to move from one side to another, behind her eyelids, as if she were reading something—. The magic beats in a... strange way. I had never felt anything like this. It's like... it's breathing— she murmured, distracted.
Just then, one of the walls exploded into a thousand pieces. A darkspawn ogre, much larger than the ones they had crossed, roared at seeing them, defiantly. His face was deformed with the scream, opening a deformed and huge mouth, beyond the limits that any face should have. Bellara gasped, scared, and placed herself next to them, while her bracelet transformed into a bow, pointing towards the enemy.
—An ogre! That's an ogre!— she exclaimed, nervously.
Rook didn't wait for anything else. She took a step forward, frowning with defiance.
—Let's get him!— Rook shouted, encouraging her companions.
Taking her staff, and making a gesture with it, she transformed it into her always reliable daggers. Lavellan placed herself next to her, while Harding and Bellara retreated, tightening their bows. Rook circled the ogre, who did not take his eyes off them. Lavellan was on the other side, tense, her eyes shining under the light that filtered through the cracks in the ceiling.
The ogre roared again, and without warning, pounced on Rook. Two arrows pierced his shoulders, in unison, almost stopping him in the act. Even so, he forced Rook to dodge to the side, to avoid being crushed by him. While dodging, she took advantage and hit the ogre, making his thick red blood splash the ground, staining it in a large part. The ogre became even more enraged by his wound and launched a blow, hitting Rook glancingly. She went flying and groaned in pain when she crashed into the wall.
Fucking ogre. Fucking day. Good thing she was already used to these blows, thanks to her dear master in the Crows.
But, it still hurt like a demon, she said to herself, while rubbing her arm.
—Rook!— a shout from Lavellan was heard, who did not stop dodging the ogre, looking for a weak point.
—I'm fine!— Rook got up quickly, calming her companions by removing some blood from her face from a wound she had made when falling.
It was time to bring out the slightly heavy artillery.
She transformed her daggers back into a staff, and anchored her feet with a blow, emitting a crystalline noise. The ground around the ogre began to freeze, obeying Rook's order, who in her mind saw the particles of magic gathering into small crystals. The ogre, attentive to Lavellan, did not even realize this fact until his legs remained still, trapped by her ice. A couple more arrows pierced his body, exploding almost instantly.
The ogre roared again, in pain, and a red aura rose from him, demonstrating that corruption was beginning to filter through his pores, in a desperate attempt to protect his carrier.
—He's on his last legs!— Harding announced, while tightening her bow once more.
With a dry blow, the ogre broke free from the ice that imprisoned him, while huffing, furious and his eyes began to shine red, threatening.
Ah, but Rook wasn't going to let him escape.
In another quick gesture, faster than an eye could see, she recovered her daggers and threw herself at his ankles, slitting his tendons (or what could be called as such). The ogre fell to the ground with a thud, with a groan of pain.
—Mine!— a voice shouted.
Rook watched as Lavellan jumped, with a gleam in her eyes, almost as if she were the hand of justice of the gods. In her hands, the daggers shone intensely when she mercilessly stabbed them into the ogre's chest, tearing it from side to side. The ogre's blood splashed everywhere, brushing against her. The ogre could only convulse, taking his last breath, before fading into ashes, at the feet of the Inquisitor.
Rook put away her daggers and approached her companions, elated, with a triumphant shout.
—Well done!
She raised her hands and gave her companions a high five, happy. Lavellan smiled at her, satisfied, while her fist bumped with hers. Bellara looked towards where the ogre had been, surprised, while resting her hands on her hip.
—Wow. I never expected to face an ogre— she made a small pout, twisting her gesture—. Although well, I didn't expect to find out that my gods are trying to destroy the whole world either— she looked at them, shrugging her shoulders when she saw their looks—. One of those days, you know.
Rook giggled, unable to avoid it, while covering her mouth with a hand. Bellara had a somewhat strange humor that she quite liked.
Almost like hers, which meant that they were going to mesh quite well, if Bellara wanted to be her friend.
Without further delay, they approached the archive. This time, Bellara activated her bracelets faster, making a click sound inside the pillar.
—Okay, it's done.
A smoke came out of the pillar and its upper part opened, with a radiant light. A crystal was propelled upwards, slowly, almost as if it were being exhibited. Bellara began to circle around it, while Rook approached a little, curious to know what it was. She pointed to the crystal, somewhat worried, while seeing how it flickered slightly.
—What is the crystal for?— she asked the explorer, who had remained still, analyzing the crystal.
—It concentrates the magical energy of the environment. That's why these artifacts last so long.
Suddenly and with a noise, the crystal began to be stored again, to which Bellara fervently denied, while emitting a little scream.
—Ah, no! No way!— she scolded the crystal, as if it were going to listen to her. She grabbed it with both hands, pulling on it with force, while grunting from the effort. Rook took a step away, unsure.
Oh, god. It was going to explode. That thing was going to explode, and they weren't going to find her remains, and her tombstone will say "Here I am because of a stupid elven strange artifact".
She could already see Solas laughing on top of her tombstone, arrogant, if he ever managed to get out of that prison without her.
—Bellara— she warned her, with fear, while covering herself with her arms.
—I almost have it— the explorer replied, tense. Then, with a grunt of effort, the crystal shot into the air, flying. It bounced several times on the ground, with Lavellan even having to dodge by the hairs that it would give her, while crouching down, quickly. As soon as it was still, a light was emitted upwards, causing a small tremor in the room. They all looked at Bellara, uneasy, but she nodded, despite her face full of doubts.
Total confidence, come on, Rook thought, looking towards the artifact. From the crystal, a ghostly figure rose, transparent, diffuse. It looked like some kind of elf, with a peculiar and very, very old armor.
—Sulahn'nehn. Vir sulevanan, enasal dirthara— With a voice from another world, he greeted them in ancient Elven, making a gesture.
—What did he say?— Harding couldn't help but whisper. Rook and Bellara looked at each other. Among the elves of today, the use of ancient Elven was not styled, which caused, therefore, that many terms escaped their knowledge, inevitably. There were many words that, over the years, had been modified or lost, completely changing the structure of Elven today.
—"Welcome, seekers of knowledge"— Lavellan whispered back, translating the words—. It's not exactly that, but in common language, it's difficult to make an exact correlation.
They looked at her, astonished by her knowledge. Harding frowned, confused, while looking at her.
—Since when do you know so much about ancient Elven?— she asked her, a little between her teeth. Lavellan only shrugged her shoulders at her question.
Secrets, more secrets from the Inquisitor. Rook frowned at this, somewhat dissatisfied.
—Silence, girls. Keep talking— Bellara pointed out, rightly, while pointing to the spirit.
Rook turned to him, not without first nailing a longer look at the Inquisitor, who ignored her, deliberately.
—I am the Nadas Dirthalen— the spirit continued to speak, oblivious to her conversation. Bellara approached him, her hands moving between them in a nervous jumble.
—Okay. Uh...I have questions.
—I am the Nadas Dirthalen— the spirit said again—. What is it that...?
A static noise reverberated through the room. With a few blinks, the spirit disappeared and the crystal went out, without giving more signs of life. Bellara moaned softly at this, distressed. She turned to her companions, her face full of disappointment.
—Anddd...it broke— Rook lamented, sighing.
—His crystal must have broken because of the ruin. It will have spoiled the resonance of the artifact— Bellara explained, with sadness—. Even so,— she mused—, I should be able to fix it. It's what I do. To fix magical things.
She began to circle the crystal again. Rook observed how on her face began to be seen an interest typical of all the researcher she was, with the infinite brilliance of curiosity. Bellara turned to her, without taking her eyes off the crystal.
—Irelin and Strife will want to know this. About the darkspawn, about the ruin and about the crystal— Crouching down, she picked up the crystal carefully between her hands. Then she turned, with a smile and pointed to the entrance with her head.

—Shall we go, then?

---

They walked a little faster on the way to the camp, having already vanished the bubble of magic that imprisoned them, having released the Archive. Upon arriving there, a desolate scene greeted them. Many elves were on stretchers, being treated for their wounds, while others had a pale complexion, with concern on their faces upon seeing their wounded companions.
Rook couldn't help but feel a knot forming inside her as she saw how these people were suffering, inevitably wanting to help them in whatever she could. At that moment, Neve approached them, greeting them and leading them to Irelin and Strife, who were speaking loudly, in front of what appeared to be their improvised meeting table.
—Eleven wounded, sixteen in bed and our best explorers, missing— Irelin grumbled next to Strife, without stopping moving in the place, with an anguished expression.
—Whatever is out there, it's scary. Very scary— Strife muttered aloud, unable to help it. His fingers drummed nervously on the table, as if he couldn't stop them, demonstrating a nervousness that was not seen at first glance. The group approached them, with Rook in the lead, after locating them near the table, while they continued talking to each other.
—On top of that, Jahel and Mihlva have not reported back fromD'Meta's Crossing— Irelin continued, her expression twisting into even more concern, hugging herself while stopping her nervous journey.
At her side, Strife lowered his gaze, crossing his hands behind his back, thoughtfully.
—A hundred people live there— he mused—. It's strange to say the least.
Rook, upon standing a few steps away from them, looked at them alternately. She waited a few seconds before greeting them, so as not to interrupt their conversation.
—Hello— Rook raised a hand to greet, with a small smile, but feeling the tension of the environment.
Strife and Irelin turned their eyes towards them and, upon seeing Bellara, couldn't help but smile, with relief.
—You're back. And alive. And with Bellara— Strife rejoiced, who smiled at the aforementioned, from side to side.
Rook looked at the camp, with a frown, while Bellara caught up with her companions.
—It seems that things have gotten complicated since the last time we saw each other— Rook pointed out, indicating the state of the camp.
—Darkspawn— Strife explained, with an annoying click—. They have appeared all over Arlathan, and do not hesitate to attack anyone who gets in their way.
—We have already evacuated three Dalish camps— Irelin reported sadly, continuing her partner's words.
Bellara raised a finger, opening her eyes a little, while emitting a little noise.
—We also encountered darkspawn near the Nadas Dirthalen. With an ogre included— Bellara informed them enthusiastically.
Irelin was wide-eyed upon hearing her companion, while shaking her head, from the surprise.
—Wait, have you found the Nadas Dirthalen? The spirit of the archive?— she directed her gaze towards Strife, the enthusiasm shining for a moment in her eyes—. With that we could ask them about the gods. Find out what they're planning, maybe.
Rook crossed her arms, while her eyes did not stop touring the camp, saddened. She observed the wounded explorers, who groaned in pain and others who tried to calm them. Clenching a fist, she brought it to her heart, contrite.
If only she had time...
She looked at Irelin, shaking her head.
—The archive is broken. It won't tell us anything. We should save as many settlements as possible. It is the priority— she murmured, while her other part, the Weaver, wanted to act as soon as possible, to help as many elves as she could. But she knew that, right now, she should prioritize other things.
And it hurt her. A lot.
"Don't worry, little one. We will help, in one way or another"
—We've been lucky, arriving on time to the last ones. But the darkspawn are getting ahead. It's a matter of time before we run out of that luck— Irelin lamented, causing Rook to pay attention to her again, while she stopped listening to her particular little voice, which was trying to encourage her.
—They are unpredictable. We don't know what their next move may be— Strife pursed his lips, annoyed by this fact.
A few seconds of silence passed, each trying to think of a solution.
—D'Meta's Crossing— Bellara blurted out, suddenly. Rook looked at her confused, not knowing what she was referring to.
—Sorry?
—Irelin, Strife. When we arrived, you were talking about having lost contact withD'Meta's Crossing—she looked at Rook, hopeful—. We could go as a group to investigate what has happened. It's not much, but it's a first step.
The group looked at each other, agreeing with that idea, while nodding.
—This time, I'll accompany you— Neve told her, to which Rook nodded, with a small smile.
Strife nodded in turn, while pointing towards one side of the camp.
—There's a boat at the docks. The crossing is at the western end of the lake. Be careful, girls— he turned to the table, supporting a hand and putting a somber expression—. Something dangerous lurks. And we don't know what.

---

The group took the boat, still uneasy by Strife's words, which seemed to predict a bleak future. The closer they got rowing, that unease increased, causing them to look at each other more often, seeking a tranquility among them that they could not find. Bellara couldn't help but let out a nervous sigh, after a while, with her hazel eyes looking everywhere, as if she wanted to anticipate the danger.
—Strange. I've never seen so much fog inD'Meta's Crossing.
Rook also observed her surroundings, frowning. Inside her, something told her that things were going badly. Very badly. And her intuition rarely failed, accompanied by her detection of magic, which was also altered. At her side, Lavellan was also tense, with her knuckles white from squeezing the wood of the boat so much. She had a tic in her jaw, which could be easily seen since she had decided not to cover herself with the hood on this occasion, wanting to have the greatest range of vision in case she needed it.
In a short while, they landed, getting off the boat carefully, which swayed among the dark waters that were strangely still. Bellara got off quickly, uneasy, seeing that she found no trace of life in the small dock of the city.
—I don't like this. The docks are always full of life, with people here and there doing errands.
Now, that dock was in a sepulchral silence, like the whole town. They heard nothing, not even the chirping of a single bird.
Rook swallowed at that, raising a hand.
—We have to be careful— she warned—. If you don't even hear a bird...
—It's that something dangerous is nearby— Lavellan continued for her, taking a hand to the daggers.
They advanced carefully, observing everything in several passes. They arrived at the market area, where Bellara twisted her hands, even more nervously than before.
—This is wrong. Today is market day. They should be buying bread, gifts, anything!— she exclaimed, with despair in her voice. She advanced quickly, surpassing the group. Rook reached her pace, watching that there was nothing dangerous, protecting her while she tried to find someone. Her companions followed them closely, with their hands resting on their weapons. When they reached a wall, they jumped over it and then, they saw it.
Corruption, everywhere, much worse than what they had seen in the elven ruins, running through even the smallest corner, throbbing with that dark beat. Bellara covered her mouth in horror at seeing the somber picture that was in front of them.
—It can't be...— she murmured, with anguish.
—Girls. A villager— Neve pointed further ahead, where a person could be seen. They approached, discovering with horror the lost gaze of the villager, who had symptoms of corruption all over her skin. The veins of her skin were seen black all over her face, and her eyes were a demonic red, lifeless, opaque, while focusing on some point, without realizing her presence.
—None must leave— she murmured, in a low voice—. Everyone must stay inside. Inside— a swaying back and forth accompanied her words, which seemed like a demonic prayer.
—Hello?— Rook passed a hand in front of her, without any result.
—That no one leave. The mayor said so— the villager repeated the same thing, without paying attention to them. Rook turned to her group, shrugging her shoulders without knowing what to do, somewhat desperate. To her disgust, she saw how Lavellan's eyes shone with sorrow under her hood, announcing news that Rook did not want to hear.
—We have to continue. There is no salvation— she murmured sadly. Rook nodded, affirming, but lowered her gaze, clenching her fists. Her eyes shone with a light pink, furious.
Whoever was responsible for what had happened in this town... They would pay dearly.
They went deeper into the town, finding more corrupted villagers. Rook's heart broke more and more, for this town that seemed to have no more salvation, fury and sadness mixing among them, without knowing which of the two predominated more. Upon arriving at the main square, Bellara looked around, nervously, trying to find more people, corrupted or not.
—This is the town square— she panted, scared, looking at her companions.
—Let's look for survivors— Neve stepped forward firmly, placing herself at her side, while resting a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her.
They separated, registering the square from top to bottom. Rook stayed behind, while her companions advanced, staying alone at the entrance of the square.
—This is strange— she held her chin with a hand, thoughtfully, leaving aside her feelings for a moment, while trying to think what was happening in the town—. Something, or someone, is subduing the villagers with mental magic. And very strong.
"Something dangerous. Be careful, Rook"
She began to walk, thoughtfully, among all the corruption, while trying to get something clear, without success.
Perhaps the gods, somehow, had been able to do it? But did they act so soon, after leaving their captivity? Barely a day and a half had passed since Solas's ritual, not counting the time she was unconscious.
Everything was strange, very strange.
Further ahead, she found Bellara kneeling, next to a Lavellan who had her head down at her side, standing. Rook approached them, knowing that something bad was happening when she heard a slight crying coming from Bellara.
—She was Adeline. She offered us the best spices in all of Arlathan— Bellara sobbed a little, clenching her fists on her knees, while pointing with her head to a villager, long dead, with her eyes turned towards the sky. Rook placed herself at her side, consoling her, while Lavellan crouched down, closing Adeline's eyes.
—Ma serannas. Falon'Din enasal enaste— she prayed, using a prayer in Elven, common in funerals. Bellara thanked her with a look, while saying goodbye to her friend, with a last sob and a caress on her face. She stood up, shaky, but wiped away her tears and nodded, with a new determination on her face.
Together, they followed the path, finding Neve and Harding further ahead, who were observing the corruption in one of the buildings, in silence.
—Have you ever seen anything like it in your travels, Harding?— Neve asked her, breaking that silence, tense by the situation. Harding shook her head, with frustration.
—Ruin was always static, dead— she looked at the Inquisitor, who nodded, giving her the reason in silence. The dwarf looked away, nailing her gaze on one of the roots, which throbbed to a mysterious rhythm, almost terrifying—. But this corruption... It lives. It beats. It's totally different.
The silence settled again between them. Rook looked away, sighing.
—Let's continue, to see what we find.
They continued to move, discovering much more corruption the further they went in. It was everywhere: buildings on the outside, on the inside, in the fountains, in the stones of the road...
It was as if the whole town were a giant bulb of corruption. And Rook didn't like that at all, even feeling that the magic that used to float in the air was tainted, somehow.
Just then, they saw two figures further ahead. They approached them, discovering two more surviving villagers, but their attempts to make them respond were unsuccessful, again. They also had a strange sway, along with that red gaze, lost in nothingness. But what their lips uttered was what alerted them:
—We must take them to the mayor. To the explorers.
They all looked at each other, surprised by these words.
—Explorers?— Lavellan whispered, looking at Bellara. The elf nodded, with her eyes wide as saucers.
—He must be referring to my lost companions. Sure.
—In that case, we should look for the mayor— Neve took a step forward, moving her staff, thoughtfully—. If, as he said, they took the explorers, they may be with him.
They set off again, passing more walls over and breaking bulbs of corruption, with more haste than before, having a clue about the Veil explorers.
They crawled over a wall, carefully, with Rook being the last, when she heard Bellara's cry.
—No!— she exclaimed, with horror in her voice.
Rook finished crossing, hastily. Then, she opened her eyes wide, nailing her gaze on what her companions had been staring at, speechless.
One of her explorer companions, in view of her clothing, was on the ground, dead, wrapped in ruin tentacles, which seemed not to want to let her go. Bellara approached with regret, without touching her, but with tears in her eyes as she looked at her.
—Mihlva...— she whispered, saddened, her voice trembling. She sobbed a little, but a murmur, which seemed to come from above, interrupted them.
A murmur that did not belong to any of them.
—Bellara?
Rook raised her gaze, remaining even more wide-eyed. She called the explorer's attention, with a noise. She turned around, looking at where Rook was doing it, also opening her eyes in surprise.
The other companion of her was trapped by a mass of corruption, much higher up, raising him a few meters above the ground. It seemed that it was trying to absorb him until there was nothing left of him, while the tentacles squeezed more and more, with a strange suction noise. Bellara approached him, scared, trying to help him, but without knowing how.
—Jahel! You're alive!— she gasped, with relief in her voice, while approaching even more.
—Careful, Bellara. It's dangerous— Rook stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. Bellara did not resist, understanding the danger. Then, Jehal raised his head without strength, trying to focus on where she was, without success.
—Bellara? Are you there?— he asked, in another weak whisper.
—Yes! Yes, I'm here, Jahel— exclaimed Bellara, trying to make her companion look towards her.
Jahel, this time, knew how to locate her, his sight clearing slightly. Rook swallowed, looking at her companions, while diverting her gaze from Bellara's hopeful face. All of them transmitted the same thing to her by nailing her gaze on the pink-haired elf:
The explorer was not going to survive.
—Bellara, listen— Jahel emitted a weak sigh, as if each word tore each second of life that he had left—. The gods... They... have returned. I have seen them... I have heard their voices.
A pink tentacle of corruption was surrounding his neck, little by little, while he spoke. Rook fixed her gaze on him, powerless not to be able to do anything.
—This is the gods' doing?— Bellara murmured with alert.
Bingo, Rook said to herself, somber. The thought from before was correct, then.
"With more reason you must be careful, little one. All of you"
Jahel continued talking, weaker and weaker, ignoring or perhaps not hearing Bellara's words, as if he wanted to emit his last words, his last warning to his dear friend.
—A blood ritual. They used it to release the ruin in the town—. He took air, slowly, his chest moving slower and slower—. The villagers said they needed... power. Be careful... Bellara.
There was no time for anything else.
The corruption crushed him, killing him in the act, while Jahel emitted a last groan of pain. A river of blood fell at his feet, and his body fell, limp, still wrapped in those deadly tentacles. Bellara let out a cry of sorrow, shrinking into herself, while wrapping herself with her arms.
—No...—she sobbed. Rook approached her, wrapping her in a hug.
—I'm so sorry, Bellara— she whispered, trying to console her.
Lavellan, at her side, again murmured the prayer in Elven, saying goodbye to these brave explorers, who had given everything to try to save the town.
Even their own lives.
Rook accompanied her, separating from Bellara, while lowering her head, swearing to take revenge for all these affected people.
At that moment, a tremor shook the ground, along with a voice that reached them in the wind. It seemed desperate, asking for help.
Rook didn't wait for anything else. She located her magic, inside her. Thousands of threads opened their way to her eyes, showing the thread of the life of all the people who once lived in that town. She looked at each of them, locating one throbbing, the color of gold. She touched it, slightly.
It belonged to someone who was still alive. And it gave an arm that belonged to that voice. Rook looked at her, with her pink eyes, full of magic.
—This way.
She started running, without waiting for more.
Her companions were stunned, without knowing what had happened.
In the end, her magic could only be seen by Rook herself. And she didn't usually use it that way. But she was fed up, fed up of always being one step behind.
Her companions looked at each other, and, without hesitation, followed her, reaching her pace. A roar sounded during the way, causing them to loosen the rhythm a little, with fear.
—What was that?— Rook whispered, not wanting to attract whatever had emitted that, looking again at the thread.
It seemed to go from where that roar came from. Shit.
—Fenhedis— Lavellan cursed in Elven, bringing out her nervousness, with a strange tone in her voice.
They advanced without further delay following Rook. After a few minutes, they arrived at a small plain, which gave to a ravine, quite deep. In that hillside, a person was trapped in a bulb of ruin.
Rook looked again at the thread, golden, somewhat blackened upon approaching her owner who, effectively, was the person trapped by the ruin. They approached him, to help him, but he seemed intact, in better condition than all the people she had been finding. A roar sounded again, much closer this time. The Inquisitor advanced a step, placing herself in front of her, while taking out her dagger, raising it, and her eyes began to shine, with defiance.
—Back!— Lavellan exclaimed— A dragon!
And, effectively, Rook could corroborate a second later, a dragon rose above them, leaning on the ground, making everything tremble. The villager screamed, desperate, when the dragon brought his mouth closer to him, full of sharp teeth.
—Help! Please, help!
Rook analyzed the situation quickly. The dragon was much faster than them, and much more deadly. so there was only one option.
Act as the leader that she was supposed to be, even if it was in function. Raising a hand to prevent her companions from stopping her, she emitted a whistle towards the dragon, while smiling mockingly, with falsehood in her expression, trying to hide her fear.
—Hey, you! Doggie, doggie, come here!— she snapped her fingers, trying to attract her attention. Behind her, her companions inhaled strongly, not believing that she was treating a dragon, in view of her size and wings, as a mere pet.
Well, there was a first time for everything.
The dragon turned to her, diverting her attention from the citizen, with dark eyes, surrounded by a slight reddish color. A tense silence settled, while Rook held her breath, returning her gaze. Inside her, her instinct screamed at her to turn around and run without looking back, but she remained firm in the place, with the purest magic at the tip of her fingers.
If she wanted war, the Weaver was going to give it to her.

NOT ONE OF US
CORRUPT
DAMNED

Rook inhaled, opening her eyes slightly.
That voice...had not been the usual one. It had come from within her, from something very deep.
Almost near the core of her magic.
She clicked her tongue, annoyed, realizing what had happened.
"It's not time for that" she scolded towards her particular little voice, which remained silent. She would talk to him later, to explain when it is not appropriate to make jokes with strange voices.
Like lightning, the dragon raised her head and a voice entered their minds, deep, mysterious.
—Fresh blood— a female voice, distorted, spoke through the dragon. Lavellan released the air, shocked, upon hearing her, while her whole body tensed, like a bow.
—Ghilan'nain.
Rook looked at her for a moment, stupefied, wondering how the hell she knew it was the goddess. Even so, she returned her gaze to the dragon, or to the goddess, rather, trying to foresee the danger that was coming, if she really was one of the gods that had escaped. She continued, without having heard the Inquisitor's whisper.
—A voracious heart. Someone like us— her gaze was fixed on Rook, without blinking, shining red—. Creature, come to me!
And with these words, she took flight, disappearing into the fog with a roar.

---

Frightened, they remained watching the fog for a few more minutes, just in case it returned, this time to fight.
After seeing that there was no danger, Rook, unable to help it, turned to the Inquisitor. Her eyes narrowed, piercing the Inquisitor with a cold intensity, as if trying to decipher every movement, every word that was going to come from her.
—How did you know it was Ghilan'nain?— she asked abruptly.
The Inquisitor averted her gaze, as if she didn't want to look at her.
—I... I didn't know. It was... a hunch— she said, with a slight stutter. Rook clicked her tongue, annoyed.
Lie. Dirty lie.
With a gesture, she invoked her threads, angry, and with another, wrapped them around Lavellan, who gasped as she felt the pressure, as did her companions, who could not see the threads, but could feel the magical pressure of the environment.
Neve gasped behind her.
—My God. This is the power of the Weaver.
Rook pulled the elf closer, ignoring the mage's words. Her mind was full of fury, of betrayal towards someone in whom she had begun to trust.
—You're lying— The Inquisitor tensed at that word, said between her teeth by the elf, with disappointment in her tone, but she did nothing to try to move away or resist.
Rook knew that Lavellan was more than capable of doing it, of standing up to her. And she didn't, not even after having discovered part of her powers with her.
And that made her even angrier, causing her to tighten her threads more and for Lavellan to bite her lips, visibly, surely from feeling the pressure of her magic. But even so, she didn't utter a word, stubborn. Rook growled, almost emitting a scream.
—You speak and understand perfect ancient elven, you know who Ghilan'nain is just by listening to her voice, which is impossible, because she was in a damn prison and is thousands of years older than you. What else haven't you told us, Lavellan? What else are you hiding, Inquisitor?— she questioned her, aggressively. Lavellan's eyes began to shine, green in color.
Green like the magic of a certain elven god.
—Rook!— Harding grabbed her arm, pulling her to separate her from the Inquisitor, without knowing that it was really her threads that were bringing her closer. She let herself be done and, with a gesture of her hand, released the threads, which disappeared, causing Lavellan to stagger slightly. She swallowed, rubbing her throat, which was beginning to have a reddish color, because of one of the threads.
Rook felt a fleeting regret, and clenched her fists, annoyed. Maybe she had gone a little too far. Just a little.
"Quite, Rook. Quite" her little voice replied, with a harsh voice, which caused Rook to take a hand to her hair, stirring it a little, while taking a look at her companions. They also looked at her, with a severe rictus. Rook inhaled, trying to calm down.
Okay. She had gone quite far.
She looked at Lavellan, swallowing slightly, while guilt surrounded her.
—Hey, I...
Lavellan raised a hand, stopping her. Then, she looked at her, with determination in her eyes.
—I am not a danger to you. I will never be. I promise you, in the name of the Inquisition— the look that Lavellan dedicated to her contained that determination that she wanted to transmit, but it contained an enormous tension, almost a plea, as if she really wanted Rook's trust. Rook observed her fixedly a little more, while her companions debated whether to interpose between them. Then, she sighed. And she took a healing potion from her bag, offering it to her timidly.
—I'm sorry— she murmured, without looking at her.
The seconds passed between them, tense. Rook twisted the gesture at that silence, while she didn't lower her hand.
Damn. She had screwed up big time. And on top of that with her contractor. She knew who was going to beat her up when she found out about that slight fact.
But, after a moment, she felt how Lavellan took it. She looked up at the Inquisitor, who was smiling at her slightly.
—Thank you. And I understand. I understand your reaction— she murmured, nodding and taking that flag of peace.
Rook inhaled, returning the smile. She patted her shoulder, awkwardly.
—Even so, you owe me an explanation, huh?— she said, half joking, half seriously.
And Lavellan smiled at her again, while drinking from the potion, without answering her and her friends released a nervous giggle, feeling how the tension was relieved between them, at least, for the moment.

---

—Hello? Can you help me?
Bellara, along with the others, approached the man who was trapped. He had remained silent, while looking at them, as if he feared they were enemies, but, after a while, he realized that it was not so and called them again, trying to seek help. Bellara hunched over slightly, while looking at him with a hand on her chin.
—I know you. You are Mayor Julius.
—The village... The people... have...?— the mayor tried to ask, stopping halfway through the sentence, as if the question weighed too much.
—They have died. They have corrupted them. There is no one left— Harding replied brusquely, while hugging herself.
The mayor sobbed, contrite, while his posture declined a little.
And then, Rook understood everything.D'Meta's Crossing. The corruption. The mayor.
And the gold of his thread.
Bellara clenched her fists, furious, reaching the same conclusion as Rook.
—You. You sold them to the gods, didn't you?
The mayor sobbed louder when they placed themselves around him, each look more severe than the other. Lavellan's eyes seemed like daggers, piercing the mayor.
Rook twisted the gesture slightly.
She wouldn't like to be under that gaze right now. No, not when it came from one of the most powerful hands that existed in Thedas.
—I... I... they forced me. Please...— the human begged, trembling—. They were in my head, they infected me. I... I couldn't do anything.
—They have died because of you. You betrayed them— Rook accused him, without mercy, her hands shining with the accumulated magic, wanting to unleash the threads, but restraining herself.
She had already screwed up once. She wasn't going to do it twice, not when it had been so recent.
—No! No, no. They tricked me. I tried to protect them, really— replied the mayor, panting, while the tentacles tightened him—. But the gods told me... They told me they only wanted the explorers. That the others were only going to know the glory of Ghilan'nain's new creation. They offered me gold... A lot of gold...— he emphasized, wanting to make them understand the little success of his decisions. Rook snorted, not believing it.
Naive. Fucking naive.
The threads began to appear around her, but she did not make use of them, still resisting her fury, while remaining silent.
—Are you telling me that you sold them for gold? Your people?— the growl that Lavellan let out sounded like a curse, strong and hard, as if she wanted to tear his head off for the mere insinuation of an answer that she knew was a resounding yes.
The mayor screamed with fear, without answering her, perhaps having a little lucidity still.
—So you took the explorers to the center of the village...— Rook speculated, while the threads moved around her, expectant of acting.
—For a blood ritual!— Bellara finished the sentence, her anger increased by leaps and bounds, while looking at the mayor.
—Because the gods needed power— continued Neve, crossing her arms, with sorrow, while looking at the man, with disappointment.
—Did you know what the gods were planning?— Rook asked the mayor, wanting to get the truth out of him, while making her threads surround him, without touching him. He only denied, or tried to, but the pressure of her magic was great, causing him to start sweating from the pressure.
—I thought that, by handing over the explorers, we would be safe. That they might forgive us. Please, get me out of here, I beg you— he asked again, looking at each of them, trying to find a benevolent soul in them.
—As far as I'm concerned, we'd leave you here— Bellara blurted out, with indignation, while turning to her companions, with a frown. Harding looked at Rook, hesitant, seeking her leadership, divided between whether to release him or not.
—Rook?
She hesitated, supporting her hands on her hip. In her heart, she wished that the mayor would rot along with the corruption.
That he would suffer what the citizens he should have cared for had suffered. That he would die, while her threads tore him apart, little by little.
Before that, they vibrated, excited, wanting to obey her. But something stopped them. Or, rather, someone.
"No, Rook. You're not like that"
Rook felt how he acted on the threads, picking them up and making them disappear. She sighed, pressing her fingers on her hip.
"I wasn't going to do it anyway"
"I know, little one. I know"
With an exhausted sigh, she raised her gaze and observed her companions. Then, she made a gesture with her head.
—We're going to release him.
Bellara twisted the gesture, but obeyed, although between angry murmurs, the majority directed at the mayor. With effort, they released the man, who kissed the ground with fervor, which made them wrinkle their faces with disgust at seeing him. Rook pointed towards the docks, without paying attention to him.
—Let's go back. We have to report this disaster to the explorers.
They set off, silence as a companion, while saying goodbye to this town, now cursed and, probably, forgotten in time.

---

Lavellan watched how her companions advanced, going towards the dock in complete silence. She did not follow them immediately, no.
First she had to do something.
Her gaze drifted to the man who was on the ground, sobbing slightly. She crouched down to his height, slowly. She rested a hand on his shoulder, seeming to want to console him, but she pressed slightly too much, calling his attention. The mayor looked up, initially relieved, thinking that someone understood him, at last, but he was left without air upon seeing Lavellan's eyes, with their peculiar color shining intensely, almost with a greenish glow.
—You...— the mayor sighed, with fear. Lavellan took off her hood, which she had placed quite a while ago, revealing her pristine hair.
—You will not leave, just like that— With a finger, she made a gesture on his forehead, employing a little magic and leaving an invisible symbol marked on him.
An eye pierced by a sword and, around it, some rays, which surrounded it, like a mysterious aura. The mayor emitted a scream, moving away from her abruptly upon feeling the burning of her magic. The smell of urine filtered into the air, which Lavellan only looked at indifferently, while getting up.
—You will be punished according to the power that the Divine has granted me— She took a step back, covering her hair, leaving to view only the shine of her eyes, which did not contain pity—. The Inquisition will catch you, wherever you go, and you will be judged under my command. Under the mandate of the Herald of Andraste— she murmured, using that title that she denied, but that she used in moments like this.
In moments of demonstrating why human beings would not go unpunished for the crimes they committed. Not humans, nor anyone.
Not while she lived. No, not while her Inquisition continued standing.
—No!— the mayor crawled towards her, supplicant—. Please, please, Inquisitor. It wasn't my fault. The gods...
—Shut up— Lavellan hissed, without looking at him—. Give thanks to Rook, our leader, because if it weren't for her, you wouldn't still be alive— With a look, she silenced him, using her authority. The mayor sobbed softly, and Lavellan turned around, with dull steps, leaving only the mayor's crying as a new symphony that she added to her nightmares.
One of all the ones that always accompanied her, but one that she was going to enjoy fervently.