Rook
Rook cursed as she saw Bianca fall to the ground, shattering into pieces. She turned to her companions, pale, shaking her head.
—It's not going to work. We need to think of something else— she said through clenched teeth, furious.
Neve sent another blast of ice toward an approaching demon, focused but paying attention to the elf. Harding drew her bow, aiming at Solas, determined to execute a master shot. Her body was tense, like her bow.
—Should I shoot?— she asked, a bit uncertain, looking to her companions for guidance.
Neve shook her head, touching her shoulder to stop her.
—No. It won't work. He's too powerful— she objected, with sound logic.
Solas would stop the arrow before it even got close to his body. And the mage knew this without really knowing his full power.
The ritual area already provided enough evidence of that.
Rook looked around, nervous. The ticking of the clock sounded in her head, urging her to think of a good plan to stop this madness before it was too late. Out of nowhere, an idea began to form in her head, causing a slight furrow between her brows.
—What if we stop the ritual? Not Fen'Harel, but the ritual itself— she mused, turning slightly toward her companions. She pointed toward the statues, determination etched in her features.
—Let's bring them down— she declared, casually, as if what she had just suggested wasn't madness.
Neve gasped at the idea, her eyes widening. She alternated her gaze between the elf and the statues, unable to believe it.
—Are you crazy?— she shouted, pointing at her with her staff— It's pure magic; it will destroy you!— she denied, unconvinced by this suicidal plan.
Harding nodded in agreement with her, with an expression very similar to the mage's, while continuing to shoot arrows at some stray demons that dared to approach them. With another shot, she turned to Rook, her brow furrowed with concern.
—The storm could kill you, Rook— she tried to reason with the elf, lowering her voice, calmly, as if speaking to someone who had lost a bit of their sanity.
And honestly, at this point and at this level of desperation, Rook couldn't disagree with the dwarf.
—I'm the Weaver, remember?— Rook pointed at herself with arrogance, hiding the fear she felt behind an internal wall, not knowing how she was going to do it. But that was a problem for future Rook in ten minutes.
She placed a hand on her chest with confidence she didn't possess.
—I can handle it— she told them, trying to convey it. She climbed a wall smoothly and, with a gesture, pointed to the ritual.
—I welcome other ideas, if you have them— she suggested, with a hint of unavoidable sarcasm.
She swallowed, impatiently, as she watched her companions exchange doubtful glances.
There really wasn't much time left, she thought, feeling the ritual's magic in the air. She could hear Solas and Varric arguing in the background, as if a battle already decided, really. No matter how much the dwarf argued with the elf, it would be impossible to change his mind.
She really owed the dwarf a strong drink for buying such valuable time, distracting the god.
Neve and Harding looked at each other again, sharing a silent dialogue but knowing there was nothing better. Harding closed her eyes for a moment and stepped forward, determined, resolution in her gaze.
—Okay, but you need reinforcements. I'm going with you— she pointed at herself, convinced. But the ice mage placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
—No— Neve shook her head and stepped forward herself, positioning at her side— It's magic, Harding. Two mages are better than one to control it— she indicated, wanting to convince both the dwarf and Rook.
Rook looked at them seriously, weighing the pros and cons of each. With a gesture, she pointed at Neve, having been convinced by her previous argument.
If the magic acted up, between Neve and her, they could surely do something to defend themselves.
—Harding, stay here and control the monsters with your arrows. Don't let them get close to us— she ordered the dwarf, pointing to the entrance of the ritual area. Harding nodded, knocked an arrow in her bow, and began shooting, unleashing a storm of arrows on their enemies.
Rook and Neve took off running side by side, trying to reach a higher and closer point, determined to bring those statues down, no matter what.
In the background, Rook could still hear Varric and Solas arguing heatedly.
—Why?— Varric asked, desperation in his voice— Why do you want to tear the Veil, knowing how many lives it will take?
—We traveled together for a long time, Varric, do you think I'd do this if I had another option?— Solas responded bitterly, as if the mere idea of performing the ritual genuinely pained him.
Rook couldn't help but scoff, quietly and with a hint of irony, as she dodged a piece of wooden debris upon hearing the elf's tone.
If it hurt him so much, they wouldn't be here in the first place.
Rook diverted her attention from the argument once they were close to their target. They reached the nearest statue, panting from the run, but not delaying for a minute more. Rook leaned against it, brow furrowed in concentration. Neve positioned beside her, nodding. Rook returned the nod and smiled, a challenging glint in her eyes.
—Let's bring it down.
Together, they pushed hard against the pillar, but their effort yielded no reward. The pillar was firm, moving only slightly under their combined strength. Rook kicked it in frustration and shouted, venting. Neve, beside her, also growled in annoyance.
—Come on, come on, come on— Neve mumbled nervously.
—It's not falling, damn it, it's not falling!— Rook shook her head, desperation in her tone. She looked to the sky, praying for a miracle to come down and help them bring down that damn statue.
And the miracle came, unexpectedly. A shadow placed itself beside them, jumping down. Rook, who had closed her eyes, opened them, surprised, but a plume of smoke rose suddenly, caused by the wind generated by magic, preventing her from seeing the mysterious person. But damn it, if they wanted to help, she wasn't going to refuse.
—Need a hand?— the figure whispered kindly.
Rook nodded, desperate, not realizing they probably couldn't see the gesture. Even so, it seems the person intuited it, as she saw a metallic arm, a prosthetic, join them in pushing. The statue emitted a creak before starting to fall flat, triggering a domino effect. Relief filled Rook's chest, but she had no time to celebrate or thank the mysterious figure. Neve pulled her by the arm, with a scared expression, as their surroundings began to collapse.
—Come on, Rook!— she urged, hastily.
Rook nodded, not wasting any time. She started running, trusting that the figure would follow so she could thank them for saving them from a big mess.
By the Maker, she hoped so.
At the top of the stairs, Varric saw Rook's maneuver out of the corner of his eye. The dwarf sighed, thanking all the gods he knew, including the one in front of him, too focused on the rift to notice his expression of relief. Then, he noticed the shadow following the pink-haired elf and the ice mage. He squinted, intuition recognizing that slender, somewhat small body. The figure's hood was blown off by a magical whirlwind. Pure, pristine white hair emerged like a curtain of snow, floating in the air.
Varric's eyes widened, unable to believe what he saw. Breath caught in his chest, feeling a disbelief he hadn't felt in many years. A name, a title, came to his lips, unable to stop it.
—Inquisitor Lavellan— he breathed in a low gasp, avoiding Solas hearing him.
By the Stone, if the Inquisitor was here, things must be really bad, risking Solas seeing her.
And Varric couldn't allow that. He couldn't let his friend suffer more because of the elven god.
He turned to him, clenching his fists.
And his eyes filled with a hard determination.
Rook tried to keep her balance, shaky, but the bridge was collapsing little by little, making her dodge holes in the planks, mostly acting on pure reflexes. She saw out of the corner of her eye more statues falling, continuing with what had been planned.
From nowhere, the shadow placed itself beside her, allowing her to see long white hair floating behind pointed ears.
But she had no time to see anything more about her company. Suddenly, debris fell on them, forcing them to dodge. Rook raised her hands, invoking her magic, causing some of the rocks to veer off course, though she had to dodge, using her years of Crow training effectively. Then, she heard a scream to her right, making her turn her head, scared.
Debris had struck the ice mage slightly, causing Neve to fall hard to the ground. Rook tried to help her, but more rocks fell, preventing her, making the mysterious figure help her by pushing her back to safety. Rook thanked them without turning, fixing her gaze on the ice mage, who managed to get up. She staggered slightly but continued, starting to run again.
Rook sighed in relief and, without further delay, decided to take her friend's example, starting to run as well. The figure, wearing black leather armor and a cloak, barely turned towards her but nodded, as if they had been worried about them while running ahead lightly, as if carrying years of training and experience in collapsing places trying to kill them. Rook glanced toward the top of the stairs, panting from the run but trying to see if the plan had worked.
Solas, from the top, screamed, enraged. He realized the collapse they had caused and was preventing the statues from falling on him by summoning green magic, frustration in his body, which seemed tense like Harding's bowstring. The dagger gleamed in his hand, as if sharing his anger. Rook growled, annoyed, seeing him push them away as if they were mere annoying flies. Solas clenched his fists but didn't waste more time. He turned, pointing again at the rift with the ritual dagger, which flickered, satisfied, as it tore the magic with its tip.
Rook fixed her gaze on her dwarf friend behind the god. She saw Varric's furrowed brow from there as if he had made an inevitable decision. Suddenly, Varric lunged towards Solas, jumping on his back and holding his arms firmly as they started to struggle, Solas letting out another scream of frustration as he tried to shake off the dwarf.
Rook advanced, a bad feeling rising in her chest, trying to reach the stairs as quickly as possible. She arrived just after the mysterious figure, who had stopped at the foot of the stairs, watching the struggle, still, as if not understanding what was happening.
But then, everything seemed to slow for Rook. Her eyes, one of quartz and the other a clear stormy gray, focused on Varric and Solas's struggle, which seemed increasingly desperate. With a scream, Solas broke free of Varric, separating the dwarf from him, who seemed to stagger a little. And, with the struggle and inertia, the dagger drove hilt-deep into the dwarf's chest, unable to avoid its trajectory. Solas's eyes widened, something akin to terror and horror, as the dwarf let out a groan of pain. Varric coughed up blood, splattering the elf's face, who trembled when the droplets touched him. He released the dagger as if it burned merely holding it against his friend's chest.
Rook gasped, panic rising like foam in her chest. Her mind couldn't process what she saw, overwhelmed by the storm of emotions erupting within her as fear for the dwarf threatened to consume her. A scream left her lips, unable to stop it, as she saw him fall down the stairs, dagger in his chest. Even then, her scream was overshadowed by another. Louder. More chilling.
And with infinite pain, a high-pitched, feminine voice rose, reaching even the top of the stairs. Solas looked at his hand, unresponsive to the scream as if unable to hear it. The elf, now recognized, looked at the fallen dwarf in horror. And she screamed again, her face twisted in pure agony.
—NO! VARRIC!
Hello! I think this is the first time I'm commenting on all the story I've written so far, which isn't much, but anyway I wanted to wish everyone here a Happy New Year! A few more things to note:
In this chapter, on Wattpad, you can see what Rook will look like throughout the story! Go there if you want to see it; here's the link:
https/1506860363-dragon-age-the-veilguards-chapter-7#
It really annoys me that pages don't support images very well...
Another thing is that in my Word file, I created a nice time divider, which was Solas's dagger, but here, on Wattpad, I can't upload it, so frustrating!
I'll have to figure out a way...
Lastly, for those who aren't sure, I'd like to inform you that I've made a lot of progress on the story. I've got around 50 chapters right now So there's plenty more to come...
Also, we're almost at 100 views across different platforms! Thank you, thank you so much to everyone here, sharing this adventure with me!
Happy New Year and see you in the next chapter!