They had about a month's reprieve before Keeper Merrill came, bringing terrible news.
“It's the Qunari," she told the assembled council, gnawing nervously at her fingernails. "We've chased them away from the parts of the crossroads we use, but we can't find all of them. They keep finding eluvians further and further away from the active network.”
Arethin ran a hand over her head. “Is it an invasion?”
“I don't know for sure,” Merrill said. “We've been setting up defenses around our active eluvians, but they don't seem to be attacking any of them, just opening them up, looking around, then leaving again.”
“Are they scouting ahead for something?” Felassan suggested.
“No, if that were the case, you wouldn't know about it,” Iron Bull said. “This sounds more like they're in a panic.”
“How can you tell?” Arethin asked.
“If they were scouting or spying, they'd make sure no one knew. If they were invading, you'd know exactly where they were because they'd want you to know.” Bull glanced at Merrill. “Where do the eluvians lead?”
“Some of them open in ruins near Tevinter,” Merrill said. “More of them open into the Wilds.”
“The Qunari are hunting Corypheus, just as we are,” Leliana said, in a sudden burst of realization. 'Perhaps they have a better idea of where he is?”
“Why would they know what eluvians open into the Wilds?” Arethin asked.
“They probably have a vested interest in your artifacts,” Bull explained. “I'm guessing they did a lot of digging around, but now something has them spooked enough to really go for it.”
“So—figuring on where the Qunari are investigating, and where the Venatori have been active...”
There was one area on the map where the two crossed over.
“Solas? Felassan? Does this place look familiar?”
Felassan and Solas looked at each other.
“We still don't have an accurate Elvhenan map,” Felassan said slowly.
Solas pulled the map closer to him, eyes narrowed. “It is likely there was something there,” he said.
“So we should go there,” Arethin sighed, sitting back in her chair.
Everyone looked at each other.
“Taking on the Qunari and the Venatori at the same time,” Bull let out a long breath. “Yeah, this will end well.”
“We can't ignore this,” Josephine said.
“I agree,” Leliana said. “Perhaps Empress Giuseppina and King Alistair can lend some assistance--”
“For something this important?” Bann Teagan exclaimed. “Of course the King would.”
“Queen Aeducan will of course lend a hand,” Vhelan said.
“And the Dalish as well,” Yara said.
“We need to regain control of the eluvians in the area,” Arethin said. “Or this will take quite some time.”
Merrill shook her head. “All the ones there are broken,” she said. “Or blocked. We haven't figured out how to unlock them yet.”
Arethin frowned. “So we'll need to go the long way.”
Leliana's people could scout it out first, to see what there was to see. Within several weeks, they returned, and told them that there was a strange set of ruins, clearly Elvhen rather than Dalish or Tevinter.
“There must be an important artifact or somesuch there,” Arethin said. “We have to go and see what it is.”
They all agreed to do so.
They didn't use any of the eluvians into the Wilds directly, choosing instead to surround the area so they wouldn't risk being cornered by the Qunari. The Dalish, dwarven, Orlesian, Ferelden and Inquisition forces would all assist, and hopefully they would manage to repel any forces of Corypheus' or the Qunari.
Both the Venatori and the Qunari were there already, mostly fighting each other instead of the Alliance.
The forest was very dark, the Veil strange and thin. The trees towered over them, huge and ancient, and it felt distinctly crowded with magic. There were some ruins already evident, though they were so worn and weathered that it was impossible to tell who had built them to begin with.
Arethin brought her party to the forward camp the Alliance had set up. With her was Solas, Felassan, Cassandra, Morrigan, Cole, Sera, and Iron Bull.
Morrigan, not normally a part of Arethin's jaunts, came because she had some measure of knowledge of ruins. Keeper Merrill would have come in her place, except she was needed to ensure that none of the eluvians were hijacked by unwelcome visitors, and no one else had the knowledge to do that. Felassan, likewise, was not usually with Arethin, but he and Solas both had some basic idea of what might be in the ruins.
Arethin would actually have brought more people with her, not wanting to run out of hands or sword-arms in case they ran into something they couldn't handle, but many had their own engagements. Dorian and Vivienne were needed to coordinate the loyal mages, and Varric insisted upon helping Merrill. Everyone else was needed to lead the troops or had some other task.
“Do you recognize this place?” Arethin asked Solas, looking around the forest. It was dark and almost claustrophobic, in a way similar to the Brecelian. However, the Brecelian was frequently traveled, and this place was not.
Solas shook his head. “Would you recognize somewhere you had not been to in several hundred years?”
“I haven't had the pleasure.”
“People come into this forest, and they do not leave it,” Morrigan interjected, narrowing her eyes at the trees. “This place has a strange reputation.”
“That is either due to the local wildlife, ancient spells, or a third, far less likely option,” Solas said.
“What's that?” Arethin asked.
“There are elves of Elvhenan living there, who very much do not want to be disturbed.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It is entirely possible. It is simply not likely.”
“What should we do if we came across such a thing?” Cassandra asked.
“We might be able to ally with them,” Felassan said. “That's provided they were friends to Fen'harel in the first place.”
“If this is a temple to Mythal, we will have no issues in that area,” Solas said. “However it is far more likely that we will come across ruins and traps centuries old, with no minds to appeal to.”
They moved through the forest, following the signs of Venatori and Qunari fighting. The two groups had started to clash, leaving a great deal of destruction in their wake. When they first encountered one of these fights, at first, the two sides ignored the Alliance interlopers.
However, that soon changed when Arethin and her group began to interfere.
One Qunari's eyes widened, spotting iron Bull.
“The Viddasala comes, Hissrad,” the Qunari snarled. “You will not turn her as you have been turned!”
When the fight was over, they all looked at each other, concerned.
“The Viddasala is here,” Arethin said. “Bull, what should we do if we find her?”
“Mages should keep back,” he said. “The Viddasala knows how to stop magic cold, like a Seeker.”
Arethin nodded. “Could she counter the mark?” she held up her hand. “Felassan, Solas, how well do Seeker or Templar abilities work on you?”
“It would be wiser to attack conventionally, if the Viddasala has counters to magic,” Solas said. “The mark will be something they cannot anticipate, however.”
“But you shouldn't rely on it,” Felassan was quick to point out. “Mages stay back, and that includes you, Lavellan.”
“Very well,” Arethin nodded. “But we must get to the temple quickly, before the Venatori or the Qunari.”
The ruins were tangled deep within the forest, and the further they went, the more fighting there was.
After one skirmish, they came across a body that made Solas stop in his tracks.
Dressed in strange golden armor, the body was of an elf. She was very tall, even taller than Solas, her face pale and gaunt, marked with Mythal's vallaslin in light gold.
“This isn't one of our people,” Arethin said, leaning down to inspect the body.
“How can you tell? Looks elfy enough to me,” Sera said.
Arethin shook her head. “This isn't Dalish armor,” she said, pointing, her finger tracing the designs inlaid on the woman's breastplate.
“No,” Solas' voice was somewhat strangled. “The guardians of Mythal's temple. This is one of our people.”
They looked at him. Both he and Felassan were pale, Felassan shifting from foot to foot with nerves.
“Looks like the Venatori or the Qunari attacked her,” Bull said, glancing back down at the body. “But she's the only one here. Could there be more?”
“Mythal's guardians come in groups,” Solas said, his voice soft. “Where this one is, there will be more.” he shook his head as if trying to clear it and pressed forward. “We must reach them before either the Venatori or the Qunari,” he said.
They hurried deeper into the forest, not finding any more bodies of the guardians, but finding strangely fletched arrows sunk into bodies.
“These aren't normal,” Sera said, yanking an arrow out of a fallen Qunari. “These from more of your elfy friends?” She asked Solas.
“Yes,” he said, taking the arrow and examining it. “Yes, this is an arrow of Mythal's Sentinels,” he held out the arrow for Felassan to examine.
Felassan grimaced. “Sentinels it is,” he agreed. “They never had much of a soft spot for us, did they?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Is this going to be a problem?” Arethin asked.
“We were allies at some point,” Solas said. “They will be less than pleased to see intruders, even so.”
They continued on, until they reached a group of Venatori and Qunari fighting in front of an enormous doorway.
Both groups ignored them, until Arethin and her companions attempted to get past. The ensuing fight was bloody, though Arethin's group managed to avoid any serious injuries. When the fight was over, they finally were able to examine the place that they had come to.
The doorway was absolutely gargantuan, taller even than the gates of Skyhold. It had no actual doors, or if it had, they were long since gone. Designs of animals chased each other around the frame, and the opening was flanked by two huge statues of howling wolves. Solas looked up at one, frowning slightly.
“What is it?” Arethin asked.
“We might have been here before,” Felassan supplied. “I vaguely remember a place like this once.”
Solas nodded. “Perhaps,” he said. “But it is so changed it is difficult to recognize.”
The doorway lead into a huge, dark hall. Arethin frowned, feeling something buzzing in the Veil, and they could hear arguing and shouting coming from the other end.
“Carefully,” she murmured to her companions. Solas, Felassan and Morrigan all looked a bit discomfited, which meant they could probably feel what was wrong about the Veil as well. Sensing the mages' discomfort, the others adjusted their grips on their weapons, and they moved forward with great care.
Quietly, they came to the exit, and found themselves on a tall balcony overlooking an overgrown courtyard.
Arethin stifled a gasp when she saw Corypheus. His massive bulk was framed by several red Templars in varying degrees of deterioration, as well as three figures in Warden armor.
Opposite him was the Viddasala, dressed in heavy armor and holding a huge spear in one hand. She was accompanied by several hulking Qunari warriors, all bearing large weapons as well. One of the Qunari had the telltale chains and mask of a Saarebas.
The two groups did not fight each other. Instead, they stood before a bridge that crossed a small pond. On the bridge were several elves in the same golden armor as the body they had seen earlier, all with their own weapons out and all looking absolutely murderous, dark eyes gleaming underneath their hoods.
Surrounding both the Viddasala and Corypheus' groups was a magical barrier for each of them, leaving them only able to shout at each other. One of the Wardens slammed spells against the barrier, and the Viddasala and her warriors pounded on their side of the barrier with their weapons. For the moment, the barriers held.
Arethin could see the barriers weakening with each blow, however, and her hand tightened on her staff.
“Foul creature,” the Viddasala spat, pausing from her assault on the barrier for a moment. “You will be removed, as a poisoned limb is cut off!”
“You, savage, seek to order me?” Corypheus snarled, his voice thundering in their ears. The Wardens' noses gushed blood, and they had blood on their armor that indicated this had gone on for some time, but they hardly seemed to notice. “You who barely understand enough magic to dream?”
“You must both leave,” the elf at the front of the bridge snarled, waving a hand and making the barriers spark and flare, forcing those trapped within away from them for a moment. “This place is not for you!”
“Relics of a bygone age,” Corypheus drawled, reaching out a hand and touching a long talon to the barrier. “You shall not order me.”
“Bas-saarebas do not order those of the Qun,” the Viddasala snapped, again she hit the barrier with the shaft of her spear.
“Leave.”
Corypheus' barrier broke at the same time as the Viddasala's. The elves began to retreat, but not before something exploded, throwing both Corypheus and the Viddasala back.
Corypheus' body slammed into a far wall, and he fell in a crumpled heap.
“After them!” the Viddasala pointed, and the Qunari gave chase to the elves. “The monster is no more!”
Arethin and her companions ran down from the balcony, to inspect the bodies of Corypheus and his accompaniment.
They seemed to have borne the brunt of the explosion, as there were only two Qunari bodies and no survivors from Corypheus' group. They observed Corypheus' body from a distance.
“This is not right,” Morrigan said with a frown. “How could that mere spell kill him?”
“It doesn't make sense,” Arethin agreed. “We dropped an avalanche on him and it still wasn't enough.”
One of the Warden bodies began to twitch, and they all stared at it. Black fluid, thick like tar, began to ooze from the Warden's mouth and eyes, and they all took several steps back.
The body jerked upright, its back arching in a long, agonized bow, and a clawed arm burst forth from between its lips, scattering teeth everywhere like tiny white gems. They were frozen as another arm forced its way out of the Warden's head, splitting the face in two, and—impossibly—Corypheus began to claw his way out of the body.
“We should run,” Arethin said. “We should really, really...run.”
They ran, even as they heard the scream of a dragon overhead. They dashed across the bridge, in through the open entrance, and began to push the massive double doors closed.
A blast of fire slammed into the gateway just as they closed it, and a ripple of magic sealed the doors closed.
Arethin leaned against the door with a sigh.
“We need to find those elves,” she said, straightening up.
Solas nodded. “The Viddasala is ahead of us,” he said. “Likely, they will be fighting her, or attempting to lead her astray somehow.”
“Lead her astray?”
“This temple should be very large—many of the old temples had mechanisms in place for confusing and trapping the unwanted.”
“I see,” Arethin said. “So how do we go forward?”
They looked around. They had come into a huge antechamber, lit by mostly natural light, overgrown, but clearly it had once been very fine in its time.
“There will be ways into the temple, but most likely barred,” Solas said. “Come—we should follow the tracks of the Qunari.”
The Qunari had clearly met with several of the elves, as there were both elvhen and Qunari corpses littering the steps. However, the doors at the top of the steps were closed and locked.
“Is there some way to open these?” Arethin asked.
Solas looked around. “The temples are often closed with very elaborate locks,” he said, his brow furrowed. “Ah—there.” he pointed to a raised platform in the middle of the courtyard.
They went to the platform. Arethin put a foot on it, and a part of the platform lit up blue.
“It is a puzzle,” Solas said. “Those who were not already devotees or guardians would need to solve it to pass.”
“That's stupid,” Sera said. “Sounds too bloody busy. Who has the time?”
“The elvhen once lived for a very, very long time,” Solas said. “We had quite enough to spare.”
“Could the Qunari have worked out the puzzle?” Arethin asked.
“This one is simple. Watch.” Solas stepped onto the platform, and a panel on it lit up. Quickly, he walked around the entire platform, and soon the entire thing was shining with soft blue light. The door opened at the top of the stairs. “You see?”
“This is stupid,” Sera said again.
“I did not build it.”
“The real question is, if you did have a temple like this, would you lock the doors with puzzles?” Iron Bull asked, bumping Solas' shoulder with his own.
Solas considered. “For practicality's sake, no.” he said after a moment.
They went up the steps to the door, and found more bodies. They could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, and Arethin could feel magic of some variety being done.
“Come on,” she said. “Hurry!”
They came to a chamber where several of the elves fought the Qunari soldiers. A great hole had been blasted further into the temple, and the elves were trying to defend it. Arethin caught sight of the Viddasala before she was blocked by a Qunari warrior. She blasted the warrior back with a fire spell, but the Viddasala was gone.
The elves and Arethin's group managed to dispatch the Qunari, but when the fighting was done, Arethin found herself on the business end of an elvhen blade. Several other guardian elves had their bows trained on Arethin's group.
“We aren't your enemy,” she said, raising her hands. She met the eyes of her companions, and jerked her head, indicating that they should put their own weapons down.
On a balcony, high above, one of the elves surveyed them. He was very tall, dressed in the same golden armor as the others. His skin was deathly pale, with a faintly yellowish tint to it, making him look as if he were ill.
“You...are not like the other invaders.” his voice was very heavily accented, a little differently than Solas or Felassan, indicating he'd learned Common somewhere other than either of them. The elf tilted his head to one side, regarding them with golden eyes that gleamed in the half-light. “You bear the mark of magic, which is...familiar.”
“We aren't your enemies,” Arethin repeated. She looked over to Solas. “Speak to them,” she said in Dalish. “They might listen to you rather than me.”
“They also may not appreciate my involvement,” Solas said.
“Solas...”
Solas looked up at the man. He spoke something in Elvhen that Arethin didn't catch all of, and after a very long moment, the man inclined his head, and the weapons were lowered.
“Those who are attacking your temple are here for two different reasons,” Solas continued, switching back to Common. “One group is only here to destroy. The other wishes to take an artifact that belongs to you.”
“We heard.” the man's lip curled in disgust. “One—that poisoned thing—desired the Vir Abelas'an.”
“The way of the Well of Sorrows,” Morrigan murmured. “That must be what Corypheus has been searching for.”
The man's golden eyes darted to Morrigan before he continued. “And the other—who has gained entrance—merely wants it destroyed.” he shook his head, and looked at Solas, eyes suspicious. “And what do you wish?”
“We do not want either of them to achieve their aims.”
“Is this the work of Fen'harel? Do you go about uprooting everything once again?”
“No,” Arethin stepped forward. “He is simply here to help us.”
“And who are you?” the elf looked her over, eyes tracing her vallaslin. “One of those young shadows, I see, who claims the name of elvhen.”
Arethin bristled. “We can all stand around talking, or you can let us help,” she snapped. “So. What are we going to do?”
“We must deal with the destroyers first,” the man said. “Then the creature. Then you will leave.”
“Then we shall deal with the Qunari first,” Arethin agreed.
The man came down from the balcony, and he as well as several of the other Sentinels lead the way deeper into the temple, ignoring the massive channel that had been blown in the wall.
“Couldn't we just go that way?” Sera asked, pointing to the damage.
“No,” the man snapped. “We will not go the way of those who defiled the Temple.”
Sera scowled and Bull and Morrigan both frowned, all clearly unhappy at being made to take the lengthier route.
“They have likely set many traps,” Solas explained in an undertone. “Part of the ritual path is to avoid becoming ensnared in traps meant to keep out those who should not be here.”
Morrigan seemed somewhat mollified, but Sera and Iron Bull were still very skeptical.
“Who are you?” Arethin asked the man. “You never told us your name.”
“I am called Abelas.” the man glanced down at her. He was very tall, easily a head taller than Cassandra, and towered over everyone except for Bull. “If your people are not Fen'harel's, then who are you?”
“Representatives of the Alliance of the South,” she said. “I'm the Mediator—Arethin Nadur of Clan Lavellan.”
“And you—are you a traitor to the destroyers?” Abelas turned to Bull. “We have seen their like before. Once.”
“Don't get out much, do you?” Bull said, raising his eyebrow. Abelas only scowled. “I used to be on their side,” Bull continued with a sigh. “I'm not anymore.”
“I understand that keeping Fen'harel's company has a habit of making one's alliances change,” Abelas said, shooting a nasty look at Solas, who glared right back.
“Have you two met before?” Arethin asked, looking from one to the other.
“No,” Solas said. “But I have been to many of the temples of Mythal.”
“Or all of them,” Felassan murmured, and Solas shot him a look.
“All Elvhen know Fen'harel,” Abelas said. “Some of us knew him with more favor than others. You are simply lucky that we are here, and that a temple to Anaris does not yet stand.”
“So are you.” Solas' tone was impassive, but a frown had appeared between his brows.
Abelas considered that. “Perhaps.”
“The Well of Sorrows,” Arethin said. “The Vir'abelasan. What is it?”
“It is not for you,” Abelas snapped. “We are here to guard it. It shall not be despoiled.”
“That does not answer my question.”
“It is what lies at the end of a path wrought by those who toiled in Mythal's favor,” Abelas said, clenching his jaw. “It was already for very few people. More than that, you need not know.”
“A favor of some kind,” Solas murmured, his brow knitted in thoughts. “The temples contained many such artifacts. Mythal tended to bestow knowledge, but the favors were different from temple to temple.”
Abelas inclined his head.
The temple was indeed a labyrinth, and the walls soon shook with fighting. Abelas scowled.
“That accursed dragon...' he muttered.
“You saw it before?” Arehin asked.
Abelas nodded. “We thought we had knocked it from the sky, but it is not a true dragon. It is the creature's, spelled in a way we are having difficulty repelling.”
“So you're not all that great after all, then?” Sera said with a sneer. “Don't know what the Dalish all go on about.”
Abelas looked at her, golden eyes penetrating. He asked Solas something in Elvhen.
“This is Sera, of the Red Jennies,” Solas explained. “She is very young.” he glared at Abelas as if daring him to make any more remarks.
“Not that young, Baldy,” Sera snapped.
“Sera, Abelas is several thousand years old. Most people under five hundred are young to him.”
“Oh,” Sera blinked. “Right.”
“You are not like the shadows in the forest,” Abelas said, addressing Sera directly now. “We know that some of the children of the Elvhen live in human cities, but we know little about them. Are you of them?”
“I dunno,” Sera shrugged. “Just don't like livin' in a stupid forest.” she shuddered. “All this weird demon shite...”
Abelas scowled. “You walk on sacred ground,” he told her. “Demons have nothing to do with it.”
“Oh yeah? What's so bloody sacred about it?”
“Stop, both of you,” Arethin instructed. “We need to keep moving. Do you think Corypheus can get past that front door?”
Abelas shook his head. “It would take him time. We are barring the dragon as best we can, as well, but the destroyers came before we sealed the door.”
“Why didn't you just keep the door shut?” Bull asked.
“There is always the possibility that whoever is outside is one of our people,” Abelas said, his lip curling. “The possibility grows less and less each time we awaken. But some among us still hope it to be.”
“Two of your people did come,” Cassandra reminded him, nodding at Solas and Felassan.
“They are not my people,” Abelas hissed. “More our people than you, or you,” he pointed to Arethin and Sera. “But Fen'harel and his armies turned his back on my people.”
Solas snapped something in Elvhen, and Abelas responded in kind, before Arethin held up her hands.
“That is enough,” she said. “We do not have time for this.” she eyed Solas, who merely glowered at Abelas, but the two stopped their fighting for the moment.
“The destroyers are there,” Abelas said, pointing to a doorway up ahead. When they reached the doorway, they found themselves under open sky again, in another dilapidated courtyard. It was crowded with Sentinels and Qunari fighting with each other.
The Viddasala was there, and when Arethin and her company arrived, she glared at them.
“You,” she said, pointing at Arethin. She walked forward. “Survivor of the Breach. Hero of the south.” her lip curled.
Abelas raised his staff, but Arethin frowned and held a hand out. “Do you wish to speak, instead of fight?” she asked.
“It is astonishing that such...creatures of magic still walk free,” the Viddasala glared at the elves, who glared right back.
“Wretched thing,” one of the elves spat in heavily accented Common. “You would judge us, destroyer?”
“You are called Mediator,” the Viddasala addressed Arethin again. “You fulfilled your purpose in closing the Breach. You must know in your heart of hearts that your magic must be stopped.”
“You have it backwards,” Arethin said. “Trying to stop magic makes about as much sense as trying to stop a flood.”
The Viddasala shook her head. “The chaos in the south defies comprehension,” she sneered. “It can no longer be allowed. This--” she swept her arm, encompassing the temple. “This is just evidence of that.”
“And you destroying things will somehow help?”
“You mark Fen'harel as one of your people.” her eyes darted to Solas and back again. “Is he not the bringer of chaos?”
“You speak of what you know little about, destroyer,” Abelas said. “Mediator, have you heard enough from this fool?” he glared at her. “We will not allow their like to defile the temple further.”
“Magic creature,” the Viddasala hissed. “The world will be cleansed of your like.”
“We were here long before your people were ever born,” Abelas snarled.
“Enough!” Arethin snapped. “Is there—any way—we can resolve this without killing more of each other? Need I remind everyone that Corypheus is still banging on the door, and he has a vested interest in killing all of us?”
“He will be destroyed, as surely as the rest of this disaster,” the Viddasala said. “You rejected us before. You made your own enemies—fight the battle you have wrought.” The Viddasala glowered and shook her head. “Without you, we could have brought the south peace and wisdom along the gentle path,” she said. “But you have forced us along the path of blades.”
“We did not make you do anything,” Arethin scowled and took a step forward. “You did as you wished. We reactivated our eluvian network, and you just wanted to use it for yourselves! They don't belong to you—and they're magic besides!”
The Viddasala's lip curled. “All things are a means to an end.” she nodded at her soldiers, and as one they moved forward, advancing on Arethin's people as well as the Sentinels that surrounded them.
Before they attacked, however, the Viddasala had one last thing to say. “Hissrad,” the Viddasala commanded, looking at Bull. “Now, please! Vinek kathas!”
Arethin and Solas both looked at Bull, but he snorted and shook his head.
“Not a chance, ma'am,” he said, a derisive curl to his lip.
The Viddasala stared, and her eyes flickered between Bull, and Solas, and Arethin.
“You have allied with liars and mages,” she said. “You use old magic that would kill us all if it had the chance. You turn our own against us!” the rest of her words were lost as Abelas charged the woman, and Arethin raised a wall of fire in response to a Qunari soldier.
The soldier was blocked, but another soldier came on Arethin's other side, and she froze him just in time. She pulled a sword from the ether and brought it down on the chest of the first oncomer, then yanked at the Veil and sent lightning bolts shooting down over the field.
Cassandra bashed the soldier with her shield, and suddenly she and Arethin were back to back.
Abelas was busy trying to hit the Viddasala with his staff, and another Sentinel with a massive warhammer was taking on three Qunari at once. Arethin ducked as an arrow whizzed over her head.
A Qunari bellowed in pain, and Arethin turned to see him ensnared in a trap that had been hidden on the temple floor. On the other side of the field, a Sentinel who looked to have been cornered by no less than four Qunari yanked on the jutting arm of a statue, throwing up a magical field that shredded two of the Qunari caught in it.
There were losses on the side of the Sentinels as well, however. One man had been struck by a wicked, barbed lance that had been thrown by one of the Qunari, catching him in the back and pinning him to the ground. Another screamed in rage and pain as her sword-arm was broken by the ax of the one she fought.
The fight spilled out of the courtyard and spread through the temple ruins, the Qunari relentless but the Sentinels lightning-fast, using the temple's various features and tricks to their full advantage. The air was thick with the smell of spellwork and gaatlock, and soon Arethin could hardly see anything at all.
Then the walls shook, and everyone froze.
“It is the dragon!” the Viddesala exclaimed. “Fools—you have only stopped us from killing it!”
“Then stop fighting us, and we can all kill it!” Arethin said.
“Never,” the Viddasala snarled.
Arethin's chest heaved, and the battle began again, the Qunari's energy seemed to double.
She realized that they could not win this battle and face the dragon at the same time. Something must be done.
But what?
She could open a rift like she had done a few times before to dispatch enemies, but with this amount of chaos she couldn't be sure of what would happen if she were distracted. A spike of pain lanced up her arm at the idea, and then she recalled whose arm the mark was originally meant for.
She cast about wildly for Solas, who was casting barrier spells left and right, a gash on one cheek dripping blood. She ran to him and grabbed his arm.
He stared down at her, startled. “What?”
“Help me,” she hissed, and raised her hand.
He nodded once, understanding immediately, and he clasped her hand. She felt his strength flow into her as she peeled open the Veil. She cried out as pain spiked up her arm, and water began to pour from the hole made in the sky. She opened the Veil more, and she realized dimly that the magical displays around her grew brighter, that the energy that Solas poured into her was moreso, and she could smell magic in the air--
“Stop,” Solas said in her ear. “This is enough for now.”
“Close it?”
“No,” still holding onto her arm, they both turned to face the Viddasala. “Not yet.”
She felt the strangest sensation, as Solas turned from giving her magic to the opposite, channeling the power of the Fade through her hand, and his eyes gleamed brightly.
There was a ringing like a bell, and suddenly the battle stopped.
Arethin blinked, for suddenly the temple seemed to be full of statues instead of Qunari. The others, both Arethin's people and the Sentinels both, stopped and looked around.
“...the fuck?” Iron Bull muttered. Sera carefully circled one of the Qunari that she had just landed an arrow in. She reached up to touch the arrow sunk in his chest—it was turned to stone, just like he was.
And the Viddasala herself had become stone, poised as she was to throw her lance. She did not look shocked or surprised to find herself in such a state. Her face was merely frozen in the expression of determination she had worn the whole battle.
Arethin staggered forward, suddenly dizzy. Solas caught her, carefully avoiding her marked arm.
"Did you do that?” she asked, staring around at the field of statues.
Solas nodded.
“How?”
“You brought some of my strength back into the world,” he said. “You wished to end the battle quickly, so thus I did.”
“Andraste's ass,” Sera breathed.
“Are you alright?” Cassandra had sheathed her blade and was by Arethin's other side. “Maker, what were you doing?”
“I needed to stop it,” Arethin said, running a hand over her head. The others gathered closer to her, giving Solas wary looks. “I didn't want to try and open a rift and have something go wrong because someone hit me. So I asked Solas to help.”
“And you...turned them all into statues?” Iron Bull exclaimed, staring at Solas, his eye wide.
Solas nodded.
“That was dangerous, even for you,” Felassan piped up, his expression disapproving. “You could have hurt Lavellan—or yourself. Or you both could have blown yourselves up—the last time I remember you doing anything like that was--”
“A battle with Anaris,” Abelas had come into the discussion. The Sentinels had recovered from their shock quickly, and were now tending to the wounded. “I remember as well.”
At the others' questioning looks, Abelas scowled.
“Mythal was there also,” he said. “It went poorly for Fen'harel's forces, and he--”
“Turned about half of Anaris' monsters to ice,” Felassan supplied.
Everyone stared at Solas again.
“Lavellan wished for my assistance,” he said. “So I assisted her. I cannot do a spell like that with frequency, but we have little time.” he raised his eyebrows. “So I suggest we continue this discussion later.”
Arethin nodded and sighed. “What do we do about the Well?”
“We must take it, prevent Corypheus from having it,” Morrigan said immediately.
Abelas and the other Sentinels stiffened.
“It is not for you,” he snapped.
“Abelas--” Arethin said.
He shook his head, and turned, and ran to the Well.
“Come,” Arethin said. “We need to go!”
The Well was on an enormous platform, at first looking like there was no way to reach it. However, when Abelas got to the bottom of the platform, a set of steps began to materialize under his feet as he ran, and he bolted up them, followed by several other Sentinels. Morrigan let out a cry and turned into a bird, flying up to the top to get ahead of him.
They came to the top. The Well was a deep pool of water, that, despite being an ostensibly stationary pond, rippled and moved with no outside interference. Morrigan had turned back into a human, and stood between Abelas and the Well.
The Sentinels crowded the group to keep anyone getting too close.
“The Well must not be tainted,” Abelas said. “It cannot be consumed by that creature.”
“No one was suggesting that.” Arethin assured him.
“None of you can take it, either,” he proclaimed.
“Then what do we do with it?”
Abelas shook his head. “We might try to protect it, but I fear that creature will not stop.”
“Most likely no, he will not.”
Abelas furrowed his brow and exchanged a look with the other sentinels that had followed them up.
“Abelas?” Arethin prompted. “What do we do?”
“Perhaps the destroyers had the correct approach, though for the wrong reason,” Abelas muttered darkly.
“What?”
“Lavellan, we cannot let the Well go to waste!” Morrigan insisted.
“No one said we were going to!” Arethin snapped. “Will everyone please calm down?” she looked over her shoulder when they heard a roar from the dragon. “Are you sure there's no way to—preserve it? What is it, exactly?”
“The knowledge of all those who came before,” Abelas said. “Any of those favored of Mythal brought what they knew to it.”
“Oh,” Arethin looked down at the water. It rippled again, and she realized it had a strange misty quality, as if it were not precisely water at all. She didn't know how many people's memories were a part of the Well, but any one of the ancient elves would have thousands of years worth of knowledge to devote to it.
She felt somewhat lightheaded.
“Is there some way to save it?” she asked.
“One might drink from the Well and gain the knowledge,” Morrigan said.
“It is not for you,” Abelas said, glaring at her. “It is not for any of you.”
“Fool,” Morrigan sneered. “You would prefer to destroy this relic rather than--”
“Why not?” Arethin asked, cutting Morrigan off.
“Do not be foolish,” Morrigan said, shooting a glare in Arethin's direction. “There is no reason--”
“It is not for mortal minds,” Abelas said, ignoring Morrigan. “Whoever drank from it would have the memories of tens of thousands of years, and be bound to the will of Mythal for all time.”
“Bound to the will of a goddess who no longer exists?” Morrigan scoffed.
“The first of our kind do not die so easily.” Solas said. “That is not a risk one could take lightly.”
“Why does being mortal matter so much?” Arethin asked. “Perhaps we are willing to take the risk.”
“It might affect your mind the same way the Anchor affects your body,” Solas said. “It would be very dangerous, and I do not recommend it.”
“Could you take it?” Arethin asked Solas.
“No,” Solas said, his voice icy. “Do not ask me again.”
“As you wish,” Arethin raised her hands. “But I would hear why.”
“We have not the time.”
“Then you will explain it to me when we do.” She sighed and looked around. “Abelas,” Arethin said. “Could you take the Well?”
Abelas looked stricken, and the other Sentinels exchanged shocked and worried looks. “It would be—I am a guardian,” he said. “I cannot—I cannot bear--”
“You are already bound to her will,” Solas said. “None of us can take it, and you well know it.”
“I could--” Morrigan started.
“Don't,” Solas informed her frostily, and she glared at him.
“Ah yes, I assume the great traitor has all the answers,” she sneered.
“You give legend the weight of history,” he informed her. “And if you do not trust me, perhaps trust what the guardians of the Well tell you. You should not use it.” he turned to Abelas. “Abelas. If you do not wish it to be destroyed--”
Abelas murmured in Elvhen to some of the other Sentinels, who all looked as worried as he did.
“What's the problem?” Sera demanded. “They're already here, what's the bloody issue? If they don't want anyone else gettin' it...”
“It is a matter of cultural taboos,” Solas explained. “They are guardians. Their job is to guard. Those who drink from the well are not guardians, and do not guard. It is one reason why we do not get along.”
“We must make a decision soon,” Arethin said. “Abelas? What do you say?”
Abelas took a deep breath. “I will drink from the Well,” he said. “Its knowledge shall not be lost, or tainted—though it is...incorrect.”
“Not all traditions are good ones, lethallin,” Solas said.
“You have made your opinion quite clear,” Abelas said. He and the other Sentinels glanced at each other.
“Wait--” Arethin said. “After that—what will you do? You could help us--”
Abelas looked at Solas for a long moment, then looked to Arethin.
“We will join your cause,” he said. “You seem to have accomplished a great deal. Those who earn Fen'harel's allegiance are either very capable or very foolhardy.”
“My thanks,” Arethin said, choosing to ignore that last adjective. “Now—hurry.”
Abelas nodded. “We might leave through that eluvian,” he pointed to a huge and ornate eluvian on the other side of the pond. “It has been locked for a very long time, but we know you have reactivated the network.”
Arethin nodded. “Go to the well. Someone else, work on unlocking the mirror.”
Abelas stepped towards the Well, and one of the sentinels skirted around to go to the eluvian. The others stood on guard, waiting for Corypheus to come.
The Well erupted into mist and shadow, a dark fog towering high over their heads, and everything was dark for a long moment. However, when it cleared, the water was gone, and Abelas was alone in an empty pool. He stumbled and fell to one knee.
Solas went to his side and hauled him up by one arm.
“Is he alright?” Arethin asked coming to his other side.
“He will be,” Solas said. Abelas' eyes rolled in his head and he clung to Solas and murmured in Elvhen under his breath. Solas responded in kind, and after a minute, Abelas' expression cleared, and he looked around.
“We need to leave,” he said.
“I agree,” Arethin said. “How's that eluvian coming?”
The sentinel stepped back. It shone brilliant purple, clearly open. Arethin nodded.
“Alright,” she said. “Everyone—let's go.”
They dashed to the eluvian just as the dragon found the clearing, and one everyone was on the other side a sentinel slammed it closed.
The eluvian cracked and blackened, clear sign of someone damaging it from the other side.
Arethin grimaced. “I suppose Corypheus isn't very happy,” she said. She turned to Abelas. “Are you alright?” she asked.
Abelas nodded, and pushed Solas away to stand on somewhat shaky legs. “I am well enough,” he muttered. “So many memories are...difficult to bear. Many come from a time before I existed.”
“Very good,” Arethin said. “Come on—we need to get back to Skyhold, see what everyone thinks about this mess.”