Of course there had to be a big celebration. The Breach was no more and everything was right with the world again, so it was time to light bonfires and get drunk. Ellana managed to get some rest after they got back from the ruined temple, but what she really wanted was to get as far from this place as possible. What she had to settle for was to disapprovingly watch the dancing humans from the shadows between two houses.
"Not planning to join in?" Solas appeared at her side.
"No, I only dance naked under the moon," she answered distractedly, not looking at him. "You go ahead, though."
"I think I prefer your version," Solas said mildly. Ellana scoffed. "What's on your mind?"
"The Elder One," she said. "We've closed the Breach, and now we're sitting right next to where it used to be, burning great big fires and making noise. We should be getting somewhere safe, defensible, and preparing our next move."
"That would be prudent," Solas tilted his head to one side. "However, I find it is also important to celebrate small victories when they come your way. You've seen the power this Elder One commands in the future. I do not expect this to end tomorrow, or the day after."
"Unless tomorrow he kills us all while we're hungover," Ellana grumbled, then sighed. "We've just painted a message across the sky for this Elder One that we have the power to oppose him. How long do you think it will take for him to get here?"
"Hard to say. We know next to nothing of what kind of force he currently commands, if any. All we know is that he has a cult from Tevinter on his side, and that at some point in the future he will command an army of demons."
"And he's infecting people with red lyrium, whatever that accomplishes," she sighed. "I thought you'd be more curious about what I've seen in the future, yet you've not asked a single question. Very unlike you."
"You have already described what the future holds if we fail, as well as how we can stop it. My personal fate is of no consequence, even less so if we prevent this future from coming to pass," Solas shrugged.
"There is something I need to talk to you about, though…" she started, and then stopped abruptly when something, - nothing short of a battering ram, judging by the thundering sound that overpowered the merry noises the village was full of, - hammered on the gates. The elves looked at each other and sprinted towards the entrance of the village. Cullen was already there with his men, Cassandra and Leliana were running towards them from the Chantry.
The thunderous knock repeated, suggesting a whole army was trying to break through, and then a voice - young and pleading - called out from the other side.
"I can't come in unless you open!"
"Who's out there, Mason?" Cullen demanded, addressing the archer on the wall.
"Looks like a beggar, Commander! Seems to be alone!" the archer reported back, not taking his eyes - or his arrow - off the strange guest.
Cullen nodded to the guards. The gate was unbarred and as the heavy wooden doors swung open, a boy on the edge of adulthood, dressed in rags and a giant hat, walked in. He seemed to have immediately identified Ellana as the person he wanted to talk to, for whatever reason. Of whatever it was that seemed to have nearly destroyed their gate there was no sign.
"I came to warn you! To help!" he said desperately. "The templars come to kill you!"
"The templars!" Cullen advanced on the boy, causing him to jump back in alarm."Is this the Order's response to us enlisting the mages?"
"The red templars went to the Elder One," the boy turned back to her, trying desperately to explain and failing. "You know him? He knows you. He's very angry you took his mages."
"Red templars? What kind of templar is that?" Ellana turned to Cullen in confusion.
"There!" the boy pointed to the mountains. In accordance with the universal laws of dramatic timing, the watchers chose the same moment to sound the horn. There were tiny fires flickering off in the distance, many, many fires. A massive force was coming towards them. It didn't care about staying hidden, too. It wanted them to see.
Ellana swore in Elvhen. It was a good swear too, long and inventive and the only thing capable of describing their situation. This was one of the very few times she regretted that the humans couldn't understand her. As much as she appreciated being right, though, she'd really prefer not to be so right.
"How do we just learn about this now?" Cassandra turned to Leliana. The Spymaster shook her head ruefully.
"We've lost contact with our people further out. I've pulled the rest back to regroup," she answered. "I suppose it's obvious now what's happened to them."
Things went downhill pretty quickly after that, though Cullen did pull off a few impressive tricks to even the odds somewhat. But against an Archdemon - or what looked like one, - there was no defence that they could muster. The Elder One hardly needed to bother with bringing the red lyrium-infected templars. When the survivors gathered in the Chantry - the only building strong enough to withstand its attacks for any amount of time - the only thing on anyone's mind was how they could escape, not how they could fight.
"All that's left for us to do is to go out and die fighting," said Cullen grimly. "There is no other way out of here."
Ellana looked around her. Most of the people that found their way here weren't even soldiers - frightened villagers and chantry sisters were the first ones to get to safety, mages and warriors covering them came in last, many of them injured, some dying. All were exhausted and frightened, certainly not contemplating the idea of a heroic death. All of them looked at her.
That was her fault, again. When faced with overwhelming odds such as these, it was no longer prudent to hide her magic abilities. Many saw her charging into the thick of fighting, wielding a long blade that seemed to be made of pure light, throwing magical shields over the villagers that tried to escape, or maybe even disappearing suddenly only to reappear behind an enemy to deal a killing blow. Knight-Enchanters, as they were known among the Chantry forces, were rare enough that most people went through their whole lives not just never seeing one, but never even hearing about their existence. If they survived this mess, odds were by morning they'd all be convinced Andraste herself gave her a blade made of sunlight, or something equally ridiculous. Problem was, there was nothing she could do that would improve their odds of survival, even if the elves did call the technique Dirth'ena enasalin, "knowledge that led to victory".
"There is another way out," the boy that warned them about the attack, Cole, reappeared, helping the injured Chancellor Roderick walk to them. His wound looked beyond the skills of most healers. "Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."
"There is a path," the man said, wincing in pain. "You wouldn't know it unless you made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. She must've shown me… so I could show you. The people could escape."
"The moment we try to go out of here, that dragon will be upon us. We'd need a distraction," Cullen argued.
"The Elder One doesn't care about the others. He'll crush them because they're in his way, but he's here for you," Cole was again talking to her as if she was the only one in the room.
Ellana looked at the palm of her left hand thoughtfully. Dying a heroic death to protect a host of Maker-worshipping humans was not where she'd thought her life was going just a couple of months ago. Funny how the world worked.
"You cannot!" Solas suddenly argued. "If what you have seen in that future is true, you are clearly the key to stopping him. Dying here will solve nothing!"
"It's clear I'm not going to be walking out of here," she shot back. "If I go with you, he'll follow and everyone dies. If I go out and fight, you have a chance to escape and use the knowledge we acquired about his plans to stop him."
"Perhaps you can surprise him, find a way to…" Cullen faltered.
"Well, he did somehow survive the explosion at the Conclave," Ellana reminded him.
"So did you," the Commander reminded her. Before she could answer, something crushed against the walls of the Chantry, causing a shower of dust and debris.
"No time to argue. Get out before we're all buried under the rubble here or Roderick is in no state to show the way," she commanded. Some looked like they were going to argue, but another blow against the doors made them finally shuffle towards the back exit. Because of course one could get out through the kitchens. Ellana followed them out and then circled back to the village.
Enemy forces were concentrated at the Chantry for the moment, unaware that it was now empty. Time for a little diversion, then. Truth was that, while yes, she was a mage, she was still a Dalish hunter. She could stalk, silent and unnoticed, through any forest - or in this case a burning village full of monsters - and get to work winding up the remaining trebuchet. Sooner or later they'd notice her, she just needed enough time to aim it at the nearest mountainside hanging over the village. As plans went, this was a bad one, but it was all she had to work with.
Before she could release it, of course, the dragon landed heavily in front of her, cutting off any possible escape route. It did not attack, and it could've easily turned her and the trebuchet into a neat pile of ashes. It was just looking at her almost curiously with its red eyes. Soon enough, its master walked up to her at a rather leisurely pace. Or perhaps he just couldn't walk any faster - they did, after all, call him the Elder One.
Well, at least she'd have died before losing her sense of humour.
He looked as monstrous as the red templars he commanded. As if human skin was stretched over bits and pieces of different creatures and things, held together by red lyrium. His arms were too long, with bony fingers that ended in long sharp claws. She got an especially good look at them when he grabbed her by the throat.
"Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more," he declared, raising her into the air. "Know me. Know what you have pretended to be. The will that is Corypheus!"
Whatever that creature was, it was prideful. That was good to know. He wanted to talk, wanted her to know exactly who killed her. That meant more time for the others to escape.
"Doesn't ring a bell," she rasped, struggling for breath. "What do you want?"
He dropped her back on the ground and raised his other hand. In his claws she saw something that couldn't possibly exist, not anymore. The impossible thing was an orb covered in elven designs. It was throbbing with power, but that power felt wrong, unstable… corrupted? Ellana felt her left hand begin to rise as if drawn to it.
"You have interrupted a ritual years in the making. And instead of dying you stole its purpose," Corypheus began casting something, causing an explosion of pain in her hand. "I do not know how you survived, but it doesn't matter. I will now remove the Anchor that you stole."
"What is this Anchor meant to do?" she managed through the pain. At least she would know that before the end.
"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none," the Elder One frowned and grabbed her wrist, bringing her left hand to the level with his eyes. Unfortunately, given his enormous height, that meant the rest of her was now dangling in the air again while he studied her hand. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Tevinter Imperium in person. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion the withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the gods and it was empty!"
Before she could figure out his mad ramblings, the Elder One suddenly threw her against the trebuchet, knocking the air out of her.
"The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling. No matter. I will find another way to breach the Veil…"
While he continued rumbling, Ellana assessed where exactly she had landed. All she needed to do was somehow cut the chain holding the counterweight in place...
"And you," Corypheus was still talking. He did not appear to notice - or care - that Ellana unsheathed her sword. "You must die."
"You talk too much," she informed him. Magic energy sprung from the hilt of the sword, forming a long blade that would've been impossible for her to wield had it been made of metal. It cut the heavy chain like butter, and soon all she could hear was the roar of the avalanche. As she jumped off the trebuchet and dropped to one knee, wrapping a Fade shield around her, Ellana could see the Elder One getting picked up by the dragon and flying away. Well, at least she'd take the red templars with her. Hopefully he brought all of them.
The trebuchet tumbled down next to her… and then, surprisingly, went through what, to Ellana's knowledge, had been solid ground. Looking down, she saw some kind of a tunnel, the newly created entrance quickly filling with snow, but clear far ahead. Having nothing better to do, Ellana jumped down.