Arethin could see nothing, could feel nothing around her. Her mark hummed absently, and there was a strange sensation traveling up her arm, as if she dipped it into a pool of cool water.
Gradually, she came to the realization that she lay on the ground. She blinked. The sky overhead was a curious golden-green color, shimmering and dreamlike. The sensation of cool water traveled up her arm and to her chest, and she felt something like a great release of tension.
“Arethin?”
She blinked. “Cassandra?”
Cassandra stood over her, silhouetted by the golden-green sky.
“Are you alright?” Cassandra asked, her brow knitted in concern.
“I'm fine,” Arethin reached out a hand. “Help me up.” she looked around. She was somewhere completely unfamiliar. Around them, huge buildings of black stone rose high over their heads. The buildings were massive, large enough to be the kind of constructions one normally saw in the Deep Roads, but the sky overhead disproved that.
Arethin shook her head. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
“We are the only ones here,” Solas appeared on her other side. “I suspect we were the only ones close enough to be caught in the blast from the orb.”
“Is that what happened?” Arethin rubbed her head, then stretched her marked arm. “I feel...strange.”
“Your mark might be affecting you,” Solas said.
“Why? Where are we?'
“The Black City.”
Arethin blinked at him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Did I hear you right? Did you say we were in the Black City?” she looked overhead, but could not see the familiar silhouette of the Black City in the sky of the Fade.
“The Black City,” Cassandra whispered. She grabbed Arethin's hand. “Arethin--”
“We'll be alright,” Arethin assured her. “Solas?”
“We must find Corypheus,” Solas said. “Before he makes this damage even worse.”
“Oh—right,” Arethin nodded. “If we are here, then where is he?”
“Presumably searching for the center of the city,” Solas said. “Looking for some source of power.”
They began to walk. Solas seemed to know the streets fairly well, as he strode forward with confidence. Arethin still felt that strange sensation as if her arm were immersed in cool water, and though she had never walked the streets before, they felt oddly familiar under her feet.
The city had buildings and streets and statues, the same as any other city. There were signs, and businesses, and even what looked like trees or flowers. Huge statues that represented people (all elves) or dragons or other animals decorated the buildings or stood free-standing in the middle of the street.
The only thing was that it was all utterly black, with a reflectionless surface, like that of old velvet. Even decorations and writing were carved in deepest black, making them difficult to distinguish.
“Why is everything black?” Arethin asked. “Do you know?”
“This place was used to try and contain a Blight,” Solas said. “Before the Veil was put into place.”
“The Blight?” Arethin asked, exchanging a worried look with Cassandra.
Solas nodded. “The blood of a dead Titan is blighted,” he explained. “This was one last defense.”
Now there was a lengthy story.
"A...Titan?" Arethin wrinkled her nose. She had heard the name before, but she wasn't sure where.
"Those are...legends," Cassandra frowned. "Dwarven legends, yes?"
Solas nodded. "Yes. They were one thing the Evanuris made war on. It went disastrously." he didn't seem inclined to share any more details.
“Should we fear for the Blight?” Cassandra asked.
Solas shook his head. “I believe it is mostly in the physical world, not the Fade,” he said. “Quarantining it here was supposed to render it harmless, as it is a physical disease.”
“But...?” Arethin asked.
“If the quarantine was ever broken, the Blight would escape,” Solas said. “And I suspect Corypheus and the other magisters who visited this place were the ones to break the quarantine.”
“And what about us?” Arethin asked.
Solas shrugged. “The seal was already broken long ago. Clearly, this measure was not effective.” he scowled. “The Blight is not something one outsmarts.”
“Did anyone live here?” Cassandra asked, looking around.
“Once,” Solas explained. “But that was long before I knew the place. It was one of the oldest cities in Elvhenan—but when I was born, it was already considered a relic. That is why it holds the center of so many powerful things. It was commonly believed to be the first city of Elvhenan, however, whether that is actually true or not, I cannot know for certain.”
“When we find Corypheus, what are we going to do?” Arethin asked the two of them. It was unlikely that the three of them alone would be able to kill him, when all their other efforts had failed, and they all knew it.
“Can you use your mark in some way?” Cassandra suggested.
“Hopefully, we can reclaim the orb,” Solas said.
“But what if we can't?” she asked. “What if he becomes a god, like he said?”
“There is a good chance that he has no true idea of what he would do once he arrived here,” Solas said. “But there is a place he might see as very important.”
“Where?”
“Elgar'nan's thone,” Solas' expression soured at that, and they continued on, faster now.
The streets grew wider as they went further into the center of the city, but still they did not see Corypheus, nor hear any spellwork being done. The Veil felt strange and solid here. Although there was not the sense of anxiety that there was in the realm of the nightmare demon, the further they walked, the more unnerving the quiet became. There were no spirits here, friendly or otherwise. When one looked at the sky, one could see in the distance land masses and bodies of water, but all equally far away.
They came to the end of one broad street that opened into a huge clearing surrounded by trees with black trunks and black leaves.
On the ground, the broken pieces of the orb lay, the only thing of color in the entire city. Though the pieces were gray-green, drained of power, they still had more color than anything surrounding them. Solas kneeled down and picked the pieces up in his hand, shaking his head.
“Can we fix it?” Arethin asked.
“No,” Solas said, getting to his feet and setting the pieces down. “No, we cannot.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Become acquainted with our surroundings. And find Corypheus.”
“And then what?”
“Just as we are without the orb, so is he,” despite his words, Solas' face was creased in worry, as was Cassandra's.
They walked into the circle of black trees.
The clearing was enormous, a huge open field that was covered with black grass. A breeze ruffled the grass, but everything still felt so strangely featureless and dark, like the things here had never even known the sun.
At the center of the field was a throne.
The throne was huge, hewn of the same deep black stone as the rest of the city. It was big enough to seat a dragon comfortably. There were intricate designs and carvings etched deep into the stone, and had it been colors other than black, surely it would have been very beautiful. As it was, it was simply dark.
Before it was Corypheus, crumpled and bleeding.
They halted, then pressed on carefully. Corypheus appeared not to notice them, and the darkness of the clearing seemed to swallow him. He was the one colorful spot in the vast sea of blackness.
When they were close enough, he spotted him, and they froze.
“You,” he hissed. “Thief.”
“And you,” Arethin said, her fingers curling on her staff. “The would-be god.”
He dragged himself to his feet, but made no move to attack. His silver eyes reflected the light of the sky above.
“What is it you wish?” he growled. “I have come here to claim this throne. But I cannot. I can do nothing more. It all remains black. There is no power to claim.”
“No,” Solas said. “There was no power here, not the way you saw it.”
Corypheus shook his head, his mouth pulled at by his scars. “We sought the light,” he breathed. “But all was black. Nothingness. The world had no one to lead it. Nothing. We had come on orders from...no one. The orders were of our own construction, our own mad reflections in the Fade.”
“So,” Arethin said. “What do you want to do now?” they circled him, and he watched them, silver eyes cold and weary.
“Now? Now there is nothing more to be done. Your world will crumble on its own weight. There is no one to lead it, no one to guide, nothing to fight for.” he bared his teeth. “All that we had done. The blood and fire and the glory of Tevinter—was for nothing. Ashes and shadow, death and ruin. Entropy consumed everything.” he stared up towards the sky. “How could it not? There was no one to correct the course.”
Arethin looked at him, traced the lines of his ruined face with her gaze.
“And?” she said. “What shall it be now?”
“Nothing.” he did not look away from her, her eyes meeting his. “Do you not understand? I have come to the heavens—the throne of the gods is empty. But this—this is not even the throne of a true god.” he gestured towards the massive black throne. “No Maker. No Elgar'nan. No Old God. Nothing.”
“You must have seen that the first time you came here,” Arethin said. “Why didn't you realize that until now?”
“I came here and saw an empty throne,” Corypheus said. “But this place—you do not know what the world was before we came here. We came to the world of dreams, and it was—so much more than we had ever known. Yet there was nothing. And the great mockery, the great joke—those rattus whose insignificant city we destroyed—this place was theirs. They had come here before us, and found it empty, and filled it with their pathetic people.” he glared at Solas. “We thought we had been to places never been. But someone else was already there. Our world was subject to the whims of another who could not even claim to be a god.”
Corypheus stared up at the throne, reaching out to trace a carving with one of his long talons.
“So we left—we could not hear the words of our gods. We thought we had made a mistake, and we ran, like cowards,” his mouth twisted. “Like frightened animals, back into the world. But the poison followed us. Black and relentless. Never ceasing.” he turned his gaze to them again. “Will it follow you as well?” he wondered.
“Perhaps,” Arethin said. “Perhaps not. After all,” she looked around, then looked back to him. “This is the place of my ancient mothers and fathers. And here, I hold the Dread Wolf's blessing in my hand,” she held out her marked hand. “Perhaps you failed because you were not meant to be here. One can only make so many trespasses.”
Corypheus looked up at the sky. “How gratifying,” he growled. “To know that your ancestors look kindly upon you. You have several in your midst, I understand it.”
“I do. Is that something you care about?”
“No.” he looked back down at her. “The world is fire and chaos. I would have brought it order. I can do nothing.” he shook his head.
“I see that we are back at the beginning,” Arethin said. “What will you do?”
“I could not say,” he admitted. “I have wrought nothing here.”
They looked at each other for some time.
“And you?” he tilted his head to one side. “What will you do?”
Arethin looked to Cassandra, then Solas.
“Kill him,” Cassandra said immediately. “He cannot be allowed to live.”
“How are we even to accomplish that?” Arethin demanded. “It didn't work the last two times.”
“There are no Wardens or Templars here now,” Solas said. “And there are no Blighted creatures. Perhaps destroying his body will leave his spirit nowhere to go.”
“Perhaps.” she shook her head and looked back at Corypheus.
“This tires me,” Corypheus said. He sighed. “I am simply...very tired,” he said. “Do as you will. I have tried too many times and failed too many times.”
Arethin lowered her staff. She put one foot in front of the other, and walked very slowly to him.
“Arethin!” Cassandra hissed, but Arethin continued to walk.
Finally, Arethin stood before Corypheus. She was again struck by the sheer size of him. He towered over her, and she barely came up to his waist.
Now, however, without his army and his dragon and his all-consuming purpose, he seemed...smaller.
He looked down at her. She stared up into his silver eyes.
“I thought you were a monster,” she said. “Nothing I have seen has changed that. But...” she tilted her head to one side, examining him.
He said nothing.
“You've nothing left,” she told him. “Your army is gone. Your purpose is gone. Everything is gone. You're just...empty.”
Like a dark room exposed to daylight.
“Why are you still here?” she asked him. “Your time was up a long, long time ago.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, leaned against the throne. “I am so tired,” he murmured.
“Then go,” Arethin said. “Leave this place. There is nothing keeping you here. The world has abandoned you.”
“And you, thief,” he said. “Are you the voice of this new world? Is it your law that is declared?”
“Who is to say?” Arethin shrugged. “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “'Maybe...'” His silver eyes went dark. His body began to crumble, his skin turning ashen, everything turning to dust. “'Maybe...'”
He crumbled away completely, and the breeze that blew through the black grass scattered the dust to the wind.
Arethin stared at the spot where he'd been.
“Arethin...” Cassandra murmured, coming up behind her and taking her hand.
“That was it,” Arethin said. “That was...all I had to do.” her chest felt tight.
“One can either adapt to change, or they cannot,” Solas said. “Now—we have other work that must be done.”
Arethin shook herself. “Yes, of course—the Veil. How do we do this?”
Solas looked up at the throne. “It was in this place that I constructed it,” he said. “So you should be able to try and find a central point to take it apart.”
“Just like that?”
“It is probably rather more difficult than that, but we must at least try.”
Arethin sighed, and reached out with her magic.
It was an immediate shock, and she jumped, surprised, stumbling over her feet. Cassandra caught her arm.
“Carefully,” Solas said.
Arethin frowned to herself and tried again, this time reaching out more slowly.
The world around her teemed with magic, more than she'd ever felt. Like the very first time she closed a rift, it was as if she'd put her arm into a pool of water.
“I can—feel something,” she said, and indeed she did. There was something strange, that wasn't meant to be there. She reached out with her hand and took hold of it. A spell, she knew that from the beginning.
“Here,” Solas breathed. “Think of it as a knot. I wished to cut it—but you wish to undo it.”
She reached out with her hand, and magic thrummed through her.
“Be careful,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“What will happen?” Arethin asked. “What's going to happen if we do this?”
Solas shook his head. “I don't know,” he said.
“Solas--”
“I truly do not know, my friend,” he said, looking her dead in the eye. “I had plans. They changed.”
She gave a chuckle that could hardly be called such. She cradled the strange spell in her hand. Indeed it felt like a knot, and she tested it, trying to find the end. It would be so easy to just smash it.
But that would be the wrong choice.
It was delicate, like a massive crystal, and as soon as she thought of that the edges of the spell grew harder. She furrowed her brow.
Like a knot, she insisted, like a string.
She found one end, and pulled on it.
Everything began to shake. She continued to pull, untangling it, and felt the spell cutting her hand, blood running down her palm, but she could not stop, could not let go--
The world cracked.
Her knees buckled, and suddenly both Cassandra and Solas were on either side of her, holding her up.
“I believe that is the start of it,” Solas said in her ear. He reached out and took her marked hand in his own. She felt strength flow into her. “Keep going. Do not stop.”
With her other hand, Arethin grabbed Cassandra and pulled her close.
“I love you,” she said, over and over. “I love you, I love you--”
Cassandra held her so tight it was bruising, and Arethin continued to undo the knot. Her hands were bleeding, and everything became so bright it was difficult to bear. The darkness receded from the city, and she saw what it must have been like when it was young, colorful and full of brilliance--
She could hear the sound of wings--
The world came collapsing down upon them, and Arethin lost sight of everything. Everything vanished, and for a time, she floated in darkness. Everything was very, very far away.
It was alright, she realized. Everything was alright.
So things went.
The world began to come back, and she realized that time was passing again. She could hear the sound of wind, and feel something cold under her back.
Arethin opened her eyes and realized she was laying on the ground. The stone was cold underneath her, and her bones hummed. She blinked, not remembering how she'd gotten there.
Then it came back in a rush.
“Cassandra?” Arethin reached out, grabbed for Cassandra, and found her wrist.
“Arethin?” Cassandra gasped, grabbing her hand in return.
“Ma vhenan,” Arethin said. “Vhenan, vhenan--”
“Are you alright?” Cassandra asked, pulling Arethin close.
“'m fine,” she mumbled. “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine,”
Arethin's mark no longer hurt. It was—it felt right, no longer strange or foreign, the magic bubbling up within her and almost spilling over.
“I feel--” she choked. “I feel--” she stared down at her hand, and the green of the mark sparked in almost a friendly way.
Arethin felt like there was a light inside her, like everything was more real than it had ever been. As if she had been in a fog, in a dream, and only now she was awake. Everything was sharp and Cassandra's hair smelled like ashes and she looked up at the sky and there was light—so much light, the stars were so bright, as they had never been before.
“Come on,” Arethin said, pulling Cassandra to her feet.
“I feel,” Cassandra said. “Like everything is well.”
“Me too.”
Cassandra had a cut on her cheek, blood trickled down to drip off her chin.
“Cassandra,” Arethin said. “You have...” she reached up, brushed her thumb against the cut.
The cut was smoothed away, leaving Cassandra's face free of injuries.
“What?” Cassandra asked. She touched her face, saw blood on her hand, but felt nothing. She looked down at Arethin, eyes wide. “Oh...” she reached out, and brushed tears off of Arethin's cheeks. “It is alright,” she said with a tiny smile.
Arethin gave her a smile in return.
They looked around, and realized they were back at the top of the tower in Aeonar.
Arethin couldn't feel the strangeness in the Veil. With a jolt, she realized she could feel the Veil not at all.
She knew there were spirits near her, and she felt joy, and shock, and confusion, a whirl of emotions like a crowd of people near her.
And that was fine.
Nearby was Solas, staring at the sky and leaning heavily against the wall. Solas was crying, but didn't seem to be upset.
“Are you alright?' she asked him
He nodded.
“Is this what it's supposed to be like?”
He looked at her and smiled, an open smile that she had never seen on his face before. “Oh, yes,” Solas said.
He reached out, and cradled her marked hand in his. His smile grew wider, and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, but the tears didn't stop.
“You are well,” he said, voice breaking. “Do you see? This does not hurt you.”
Arethin nodded. “No,” she agreed. “No, it doesn't.” she glanced around. “We should—we should go and find the others, shouldn't we?”
Solas and Cassandra nodded, and after a few false starts, they went back down the tower stairs. Everyone was there, just at the bottom, but seemed to be having a bit of trouble orienting themselves.
“Kadan!” Bull saw Solas and swept him up in an embrace. “What did you do?” he demanded. “Are you alright?” he brushed a tear from Solas' cheek.
“I'm fine,” Solas breathed, and laughed. “How are you? The Veil is gone. What do you feel?”
“This isn't--” Bull didn't seem to have the words. “I thought—i don't know what I thought it would be like.”
“What do you think now?”
“I don't know,” Bull admitted.
“Is this how things are supposed to be?” Dorian asked, blinking. “I feel—better. Yes. I feel better. My head feels—it feels like it's mine, does that make any sense?”
“I feel good,” Sera gave a nervous laugh, and promptly tripped, falling onto her backside. “'s magic! Right? Is that what it is?”
They all made their way out of the fortress, which felt almost welcoming in comparison to how it had felt befoe.
“I feel...I don't know how I feel,” Cassandra said. “This is...I don't know anything anymore.”
“Does that matter?” Arethin asked, looking up at the stars.
“How could we have been afraid of this?” she murmured.
Arethin turned to Solas. “The Evanuris,” Arethin said. “Will they be back? Do you know?”
“They may try to return,” Solas said with a smirk. “That does not mean they will succeed.”
“No?”
“No. You have changed too much—their power is so much less than it has ever been.”
Arethin nodded. There was another matter that had to be decided, however. “So?” she said. “Do you still wish to change this world back?”
Solas shook his head. “No,” he breathed. “You—repaired it. You...what I would have done isn't...” he stopped.
Arethin smiled, and reached out to take his hand in hers. “I know you want them back,” she said. “But we are here. And we have fixed it.”
He met her eyes and smiled. “Your mark is healed,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her left hand. “I could not say for certain, but if that is so, then you are healed too. And if you are whole, so are your people. So are all of our people.”
Her eyes widened.