Arethin Lavellan came back to the world of the living slowly, and with a great deal more pain than she personally thought was necessary. Her left hand positively burned, pain lancing up her arm and all the way to her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see stone underneath her.
That was very confusing, as when she had last gone to sleep she'd been under an open sky. Right now, however, she appeared to be indoors, and even more concerning, kneeling on a stone floor.
She had quite certainly never gone to sleep like that before.
People around her were arguing.
“Cassandra, we don't even know if it's her fault!” that was a Ferelden accent, but she didn't recognize the voice it belonged to.
“She was the only survivor, and she has that—thing on her hand!” Nevarran, a woman's voice.
“I don't really think that's solid proof. No one even knows what it is or how it's connected--”
“We've gone around and around this for days,” another woman's voice, Orlesian, and this one did sound a little familiar, but Arethin couldn't place it. “We won't know until—oh.”
The blurry shapes around her began to focus, and she blinked, becoming slowly aware of being in a dimly lit room.
She tried to get to her feet, and found that her hands were shackled to the floor. That was very worrying.
“You!” someone grabbed the front of Arethin's tunic, and a woman's face swam into view. “How did you do this? Why?”
“How did I do what?” Arethin exclaimed. Her head spun. “What's going on?”
“Seeker, please,” that was a new voice, another man, with what sounded like a Frostbacks Dalish accent. “You can hardly question her unless you are certain her mind is undamaged.”
The woman let Arethin go and stood back, a sour expression on her face. Arethin looked around. The woman was golden-skinned and armored, with the insignia of the Seekers on her breastplate. There was also a redheaded woman with bone-pale skin, and a darker man who wore battered steel armor. The armor was covered in scratches and mud, but she could still make out a Templar insignia on it.
The breath left her. She tried to move back, but found she couldn't.
“I don't know why you've brought me here, Seeker,” she snarled, eyes riveted to the woman with the Seeker armor. “But I swear I--”
“Peace,” another person blocked her view. An elvhen man with a severe face looked deeply into her eyes, and took her chin, tilting her head one way and another. “We are not here to hurt you.”
She glared at the man. “Then why am I shackled to the floor?”
“We are as unfamiliar with you as you are with us. Can you tell me your name?”
“I can.”
He waited. She said nothing.
The man sighed. “Seeker, I believe I informed you this would happen,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the armored woman.
The woman glared at him. “We don't know anything about her!” She exclaimed.
“And she does not know us. You can hardly ask her anything if she is convinced you are here to kill her.” he looked back at Arethin. “I am Solas, if there are to be introductions,” he said. He gave her a tiny smile that might have been comforting were it not for how his brows knit together in worry. “These people are with Divine Justinia's Inquisition, and do not serve the Grand Cleric."
Arethin stared at him, and relaxed somewhat.
“Well...good,” she said. “Mayhap get me untied, and I shall tell you my name.”
Solas inclined his head. His hand moved towards hers, when the Seeker grabbed his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she growled.
“She is not a danger, at present,” Solas informed her, his tone frosty.
“Cassandra,” the redheaded woman came over as well. “We must take her to one of the rifts at some point.”
Cassandra scowled, first at Arethin, then her companions, but let Solas undo Arethin's shackles from the floor.
Arethin looked down at her left hand, the one that hurt.
A green slash burned across her palm, showing a searing green light, and she gasped, opening her hand to look more intently at it.
“What is this?” she murmured.
“You do not know?” Cassandra growled.
“No, I don't!” Arethin snapped.
Solas took her hand. “It might be easier to explain this if we show you the Breach,” he said, looking the mark over with a critical eye.
“What's the Breach? Where am I?”
Solas tilted his head to one side. “Where do you last remember being?”
“The Frostbacks,” she said. “I—I was on my way to the Conclave.”
Casandra narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
Arethin glared at her. “If you must know, Keeper Lanaya Leanvunlas of the Dalish Coalition wished to send an observer to monitor the goings-on,” she snapped and straightened her back. “I am Ambassador Arethin Nadur Lavellan, and if you harm me--”
“The Dalish observer!” the redhead exclaimed. “Ah, of course!”
“What do you mean, 'of course?'”
“I am Sister Leliana,” the redhead stepped forward. “I am the one who put forth the suggestion to Keeper Lanaya that the Coalition send an observer. Please excuse us, I did not realize who you were.”
Leliana...that name sounded familiar... “The Nightingale?” Arethin asked.
Leliana inclined her head.
“This is the observer?” Cassandra asked.
“That does explain her being Dalish, when otherwise, no Dalish individual would be present,” Solas murmured. His expression was neutral but Arethin got the distinct impression he did not feel very highly of the company he kept.
Cassandra sighed and shook her head.
“You are of Justinia's group?” Arethin asked. She frowned. “Then—what happened? Where am I?”
“That...it might be easier simply to show you,” Cassandra said, her shoulders slumping.
“Why?”
Again, they all glanced at each other, worry in their faces. Again, it was Solas who gave an explanation.
“A magical event that currently there is no explanation for occurred,” he said. “You are connected to it, via the mark on your hand.”
She blinked.
“It really would be easier to show you,” he said.
“Very well,” Arethin nodded. She looked down at herself. She was wearing a clearly borrowed set of clothing, not her travelling gear at all. She frowned. “Where are my clothes?” she asked. “My staff?”
“Damaged,” Cassandra gritted. “You will understand why when you see it.”
Arethin frowned to herself as she got to her feet. Even her boots weren't her own. She followed the others out of the room. Cassandra, Leliana and the third man stayed ahead of her, but Solas stuck by her side.
“Do you speak Dalish?” she asked him, in Dalish, hoping against hope that he did. A Dalish-sounding accent was no guarantee of being Dalish.
He inclined his head.
Some of the tension went out of her chest as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you from Clan Eirethelu?” Eirethelu was the best Clan for spywork, with so many barefaced members. “I didn't hear there'd be any other observers, but--”
“No, I am not,” he said, responding in the same language. His accent was peculiar, his tone formal and his pronunciation strangely archaic. “I am not Dalish.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You speak our tongue well enough.”
“I--” he paused for a moment. “I have studied both modern Dalish and old Elvhen. I know them both.”
Interesting. “Are you one of the mages from the Grand Enchanter?”
“No.”
Arethin raised her eyebrows. “The loyal mages?” that would have been quite the surprise, no one had heard from the small loyal faction for months, ever since the siege of Val Royeaux. Still, it was possible.
“No. I am an apostate—quite a solitary one.”
“Why--” she cut herself off when they got outside and she saw the sky.
There was a tear in the sky, like someone had taken the fabric of the world and ripped it in two, clouds swirling about like a hurricane. The pale green of the Fade seemed to bleed into the air, and through the tear she could see stars, and she stumbled suddenly, feeling dizzy.
“Creators,” she breathed.
“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra said, also looking up at it. “An enormous rift into the Fade. The Breach is only the largest, but there are many rifts, many holes in the Veil.”
“What caused it?” Arethin asked.
“Do you see that?” Cassandra pointed to a spot under the Breach, a strange gap in the mountain, like a piece of it had been carved away. “That is where the Temple of Sacred Ashes was.”
Arethin stared at the gap, then back at her. “Was?”
“It is no longer.” Cassandra's lips thinned. “The explosion that caused the Breach destroyed the Temple. That is what happened.”
“I don't remember--” she blinked.
“Don't remember what?”
“The last thing I remember, I was—on the trail,” she said. “I was coming up the mountain, and then...” she blinked. “Nothing.”
Cassandra sighed. “Do you know when it was?”
“Evening. Evening of—how long have I been...?”
“You were asleep for five days.”
Arethin looked at her in shock. Five days? She shook her head and looked up at the Breach. “What do we do about that?” she asked, trying to take her mind off of the problem of her memory.
“I don't know,” Cassandra said.
“Your mark is connected to it,” Solas sidled up beside her. “It is possible you can manipulate it, and even close the Breach.”
“Has no other magic been able to affect it?” Arethin asked. “Usually a mage can help with Veil damage--”
“None. It is damage to the Veil itself—as traumatic as any Veil damage could ever be. It is not magic caused by death, blood magic, or summoning a spirit.”
“What would you liken it to, then?”
Solas regarded her, his gray eyes serious. “As if someone reached into the Veil and tore it. Manipulated it directly, if such a thing could be touched.”
Arethin swallowed. She held up her hand, examining the mark upon it. It shone with a faint light, pale and green. “Here—show me to one of these rifts.” she said. “Perhaps this can fix it.” the mark pulsed faintly, and she winced.
Cassandra nodded. The three of them walked past peasants and soldiers, some of whom glared at Arethin, but most prayed or wept, staring at the sky.
“They blame you for Justinia's death,” Cassandra murmured, glancing at one of the soldiers.
“Why?” Arethin asked.
“They believe you are the one that killed her.”
“But I did not.”
“Perhaps you did,” Cassandra looked at her, brows knit in thought. “You do not know.”
“I would not have,” Arethin growled. “But regardless—I know of nothing that can do that to the Veil. Why would I even wish to?”
“I do not know,” Cassandra said. “And neither do they.”
There was a huge booming sound, like an explosion, and Arethin was driven to her knees with the pain that shot through her marked hand. Someone put their hand on her shoulder, and she struggled for breath.
After a long moment, the pain stopped. She gasped in relief. Solas, who had been the one to steady her, helped her to her feet.
“It expanded again,” Cassandra murmured. Everyone was staring up at the sky, towards the Breach, where indeed it was noticeably bigger.
“Expanded?” Arethin said, chest heaving in an effort to catch her breath, as she stared up at the sky. Her hand still ached.
“It has been expanding since it opened,” Solas said, his expression hard. “Five days ago, it still appeared manageable.”
“With each expansion, your mark spreads,” Cassandra said, pointing to how Arethin's mark had crept a bit up her palm. “That, too, was once smaller.”
Arethin shuddered, pulling her borrowed coat closer around her. She glanced at Solas as they started walking again.
“If you are an apostate, where do you come from? Why are you here?” she asked him.
“I am from a village to the north,” he explained. As he spoke, she was struck again by how peculiar his accent was. She'd never heard the like, not even from city elves or Circle elves who converted to the Dalish. She had even known a Tal-Vashoth who had learned Dalish, and she'd never sounded like that. “I am—do you know somniari?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know it can be dangerous for somniari to be around people, especially those more ignorant of magic.” his mouth twisted.
“Sometimes,” she said. “Not always.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Then you are more well informed than most people on the subject.”
She shrugged, uncertain what to say to that. They tried to cross a stone bridge when a projectile from the Breach struck it, falling like a meteor, and collapsed the bridge. The three of them fell onto the icy river below.
Arethin landed hard on her side, and scrambled to her feet. Cassandra was already up and with her sword and shield out, fighting a Despair demon.
Arethin gaped.
“That...” she murmured. “That isn't right.”
“No,” Solas agreed. He rubbed his arm with a wince, and there was the soft glow of healing magic that meant he had injured it. He took his staff off his back and headed towards the demon.
Arethin had no staff, so she drew a spectral sword from the air—a handy arcane warrior trick that precluded a staff. Another Despair demon approached her, and she held her hand out, trying to think thoughts that weren't despairing.
The demon advanced upon her, and she shot an unfocused spell at it, catching it on fire. Fire tended to ward them off. Despite the fire, it radiated cold, and she could hear crying, like a baby or an injured animal. She shuddered, and it wailed, coming at her despite still being lit aflame. She slammed it with her sword, and it shattered into several thousand pieces.
She took several deep breaths, and realized that Cassandra and Solas had finished off the other demon.
“I think we're done for now,” Arethin said.
Cassandra saw the sword in her hand and rounded on her. “Drop your weapon!” she commanded.
“Seeker, she was merely defending herself,” Solas said.
“She does not need a weapon!”
“I think you'll find that I very much do,” Arethin growled, leveling her gaze at Cassandra. “But regardless--”
She dispersed the sword, and Cassandra's expression grew, if possible, even angrier. Arethin ignored her and cast about for a staff. Spectral swords were useful, but a physical staff was much more reliable.
“I see you use knight-enchanter methods,” Cassandra said, glaring fiercely.
“Arcane warrior,” Arethin corrected, matching Cassandra's glare with one of her own. “Do you have a problem with that?” she tilted her head to one side. “Or do you want me to be killed by a demon? We can arrange that but I hardly think anyone here would like it.”
Cassandra stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and sheathed her blade. “Fine,” she gritted. “It is clear I alone cannot protect you.” she looked up at the broken bridge.
“The nearest rift is in that direction,” Solas said, pointing down the river. “There are quite a large number of rifts. We don't need to go far to test the mark.”
“That is certainly true,” Cassandra said, closing her eyes.
Arethin shuddered. Now that she was paying attention, the Veil felt torn and rent, with small holes in it everywhere. Spirits pressed close, some curious, but she could feel hostility as well. The air was charged with emotions, and it was...claustrophobic.
She finally located a discarded staff and picked it up, then looked up to the sky. “Are more spirits falling from that, or coming from the rifts?” she asked.
“We have not exactly counted which,” Cassandra said. “The Breach spits out everything, not merely demons—look there!” she pointed at another falling star. “That could be a demon, or a stone, or a statue.”
“A statue?”
Cassandra shrugged.
“A large statue fell from the Breach and damaged one of the walls around Haven,” Solas explained quietly. “It seems anything can fall from it. Normally, only spirits come through tears in the Veil, but this one is so large that all the structures of the Fade are possible.”
Arethin stared up at the Breach, amber eyes wide. “I see,” she said. “Come, then, show me this rift.”
The continued forward, along the icy river, and were greeted with a few more demons which they were able to dispatch. Cassandra still seemed very sour that Arethin had access to a weapon, but she said no more on the subject.
They came to a set of stone stairs that lead from the river back up to the main path, and went up those as quickly as they could.
“Hurry!” Cassandra said. “I can hear fighting—some of our people must be at the rift!”
Arethin heard a strange cracking sound, and smelled something like lavender and summer grass, and felt an inexplicable warm breeze--
They came to the rift. It was a rent in the open air, as if someone had taken a great knife and parted the world.
There were demons that surrounded it, all hostile, and several people fought with the demons.
Arethin assisted in the fight, bringing up a wall of fire to drive the demons back. Cassandra charged forward again, slamming a demon with her shield. Solas hung back, and a tingling on Arethin's skin told her that he'd cast a barrier on her.
Finally, the fight was over.
Arethin looked up at the rift, breathing heavily. She lowered her staff.
Her hand ached.
“What...what do I do?” she asked.
“Whatever you do, you must do it quickly!” Cassandra said.
“I don't know how it works!” she snapped.
Solas took her hand and held it up to the rift. His brow furrowed in concentration.
She felt—something. Like she had plunged her arm into a hot bath. She could feel something almost like cloth under her fingers, and she clenched her fist, as if pulling the cloth together in her hand. With another crack, the rift sealed up, leaving only droplets of lavender-scented water behind.
The both of them stepped back, slightly off-balance, and Solas let go of her hand.
“How did you do that?” she asked him.
“I did nothing,” he said. "The credit is yours."
“Then why did you take my hand?”
“I thought it was possible that the energy of another mage might have been needed,”he said. “Fortunately, this was not the case. It seems proximity is enough to at least begin the process of closing the rifts.”
“I suppose...” she looked down at her hand. It still ached, and the mark glimmered, like she held a light in her palm.
“Good, you can close smaller rifts,” Cassandra said, her tone businesslike. “We must go to the forward camp. Leliana will meet us there, and we can get to the Temple.”
“That was a pretty good show,” a dwarf with red hair came up to them, putting a large crossbow on his back. “Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever.”
“Tethras,” Cassandra said. “Why are you still here?”
“Well, I couldn't exactly leave, not with the valley in the state it is,” he said. “I stayed here till the demons started coming through, then I really couldn't leave.” his gaze landed on Arethin. “Varric Tethras,” he introduced himself with a grin. “Storyteller and unwelcome tagalong extrodinaire, when I'm not busy being unlawfully held prisoner.”
Arethin nodded. “Arethin Nadur Lavellan, First to Clan Lavellan.” she furrowed her brow. The name Tethras sounded familiar. “Do you—are you a friend of Keeper Merrill's?” she asked.
Varric's face lit up. “You know her!” he exclaimed.
“Of course.”
“We must continue,” Cassandra interrupted. “Varric, your help is appreciated, but—you should have been gone days ago.”
“What, and miss all this?” Varric half laughed. “You need all the help you can get, Seeker.”
Cassandra growled, clearly annoyed, but Arethin knew they had to push on.
“If he wishes to help, I see no reason not to allow it,” Arethin said. “Come with us, Master Tethras.”
“I see you're about as casual as Chuckles over here,” Varric nodded to Solas as they began to make their way down the slippery, ice-covered slope to the river.
“Are there more demons closer to the Breach?” Arethin asked.
Solas nodded. “The Veil is more damaged the closer one comes,” he said. “The fighting is worse there.”
“Is it only demons, or is there anyone else?”
“Only demons, so far.”
“Would you be expecting anything else?” Varric asked, inspecting his crossbow as they made their way along the path.
“Perhaps,” Solas said. “A large number of beings reside in the Fade, not simply demons.”
Varric snorted. “Not in my experience.”
The path went back down to the frozen river. On the bank, there were several small houses that were built in the foot of the mountain, smoldering with green fire. There weren't any people there, fortunately, and no bodies.
Less fortunately, there more demons drifting about. Without any targets, they were aimless, but once they spotted Arethin and her companions, they headed straight for them.
Cassandra immediately charged forward, as was becoming her habit, slamming her shield on a large Rage demon who spat and hissed at her before she swiped at it with her sword. Both Solas and Varric hung back, Solas casting barriers and defensive spells, Varric using his crossbow to great effect.
Arethin got in close with Cassandra. Besides her spectral sword, she knew enough of the arcane warriors to shield her from physical blows and to reduce the distance needed to make her spells effective.
“You do not fight like most mages I have known,” Cassandra said when the battle was finished and she was sheathing her sword. Her gaze was suspicious, her dark eyes narrowed at Arethin. “How is it that you know knight-enchanter—ah, arcane warrior spells?”
Arethin shrugged. “My Clan has found a great deal of magical techniques not taught in Circles,” she explained, and elaborated no further. Cassandra hardly needed to know the ins and outs of her Clan's magical traditions.
On the other side of the river, the path went back up, winding its way up the mountain. Arethin had a peculiar feeling, as if her mind had forgotten walking this path but her feet remembered. She shuddered, not wanting to think on why that might be.
They came to another rift, right before the forward camp. This one brought a strange smell like seawater, and the area around it was warm enough to melt the snow. This time, Arethin brought her hand up, and she could feel more distinctly where the break in the Veil was.
She bit her lip, and brought her fingers together, as if pinching the Veil closed. There was that strange sensation of her bones humming for a moment, and then the rift was gone.
She stared down at her hand.
“Are you alright?” Solas asked her.
“Fine,” she said, but it still troubled her that she did not know how the mark worked. The magic of it felt very alien, and she did not like the sensation.
“Come,” Cassandra urged them forward. “Let us continue.”
The forward camp was placed on another tall bridge, and they found Leliana arguing with a man in the dress of a Chantry brother.
Before they could get to her, however, a tall Vashoth woman blocked their path, looking urgent.
“Seeker, please, have you found--?”
“No, Serah Adaar, we haven't found anyone else,” Cassandra sighed. “I am sorry.”
Adaar's face crumpled. She looked at Arethin. “Hey—you're the one who came out of the Temple,” her voice cracked. “Did you see—any other Vashoth? Like me?”
Arethin shook her head. “I'm sorry. I don't remember.” she hadn't seen any Vashoth around camp, either.
“You came out of the temple?” a dwarven man with long brown hair hurried up to them. “Did you see my sister? A dwarf, like me, but--”
“No, I didn't see anyone!” Arethin exclaimed.
The dwarf huffed in frustration. “Seeker Cassandra--”
“No, we haven't found her either, Ser Cadash,” Cassandra said. “If you will please let us pass--”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Adaar rubbed her face and stood aside.
“You're a Seeker!” Cadash bellowed at Cassandra's back. “So, your job is to find people!”
Cassandra shook her head, but didn't respond.
“Who are they?” Arethin asked.
“Just a few of many people who are looking for those lost in the Conclave,” Cassandra said with a sigh. They came to the table where Leliana and the man argued.
“We must pull back--” the man insisted.
“And where would we go?” Leliana demanded. “The Inquisition is here to restore order—we cannot do that from afar.”
“And we can't do that if we all get killed by these demons!”
They looked up when they saw Cassandra approach. The man's face soured when he saw Arethin.
“Leliana, where is Barris?” Cassandra asked.
“Holding a line at the Temple entrance,” Leliana said.
“You must retreat, Seeker,” the Chantry man snapped.
“Retreat? We cannot retreat now!” Cassandra exclaimed. “The Breach expanded not an hour ago--”
“All the more reason for us to pull back to a sensible distance!”
“And leave the Breach to grow?” Leliana demanded.
Cassandra nodded. “There are so many demons—we cannot have them getting out. Who would prevent their escape if we pull out now?”
“We cannot hold this position!” the Chancellor insisted.
Cassandra ignored him and whirled to Arethin. “You,” she said. “You may close the rifts, and might effect the Breach.” her lip curled, but she pressed on. “What do you think?”
Arethin sighed and shook her head. “The more people you have there, the worse it will become,” she said, leaning forward. “You need to pull your people out of there and quarantine it.”
The Chantry man stared at her.
“Pull out?” Cassandra demanded. “How can we, when--”
“High emotions influence spirits, Seeker,” Solas said. “The thinner the Veil is and the more people there are, the more the spirits are influenced, usually for the worse. Mistress Lavellan is correct in suggesting a quarantine.”
“We can't do that,” Cassandra snapped. “Not with the Breach—”
“I don't mean abandoning the Breach,” Arethin clarified, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Just get move all your people away from the immediate area. You just need everyone away from there, or anyone that tries to get closer will be attacked by demons.”
Leliana and Cassandra exchanged a look.
"We might be able to get everyone back,” Leliana said. “At least—for as long as it will take you to close the Breach.”
“If I can.”
Leliana inclined her head. “If you can.”
Arethin sighed and ran a hand over her head. “Very well,” she said. “How do I get to the temple?”
“We can go to Barris, at the front,” Cassandra said. “That is the quickest route--”
“But not the safest.” Leliana said. “The mountain pass would avoid the majority of the demons, as far as we know.” she turned around and pointed up to the mountain, tracing out the route. “It leads to an old mining complex, and is more sheltered than the other path.”
“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path!” Cassandra exclaimed. “How can that be the safer option?”
“Wait—what if this woman is responsible?” the Chantry man interjected. “She was a prisoner not three hours ago!”
“If I was responsible, why would I be trying to fix it?” Arethin growled.
“The Dalish hostilities are well known--”
“Excuse me, are you accusing me of an act of war?” Arethin asked, leaning forward over the table.
“No,” Leliana looked sharply at the man. “Roderick, we have this under control.”
“But she was the only survivor--”
“We are dealing with it, Chancellor,” Cassandra growled.
“On your own head be it,” the Chancellor grumbled with a dark look towards Arethin.
“As I was saying,” Cassandra tossed one lass scowl in Roderick's direction. “One of our squads has not reported back to us since going that way—how is it safer?”
“Fewer people means fewer demons,” Arethin reasoned. “They might have just had communication problems.”
“Exactly,” Leliana nodded. “Going to the front of the Temple exposes you to far more demons than is wise.”
“I can take the mountain route, but if it takes longer, the Breach might expand again,” Arethin said.
“That's entirely possible,” Solas interjected. “It would be best if you got there swiftly.”
Arethin nodded, frowning to herself.
“But if we lose you, we're kind of out of luck,” Varric said. “Might want to go with safety on this one.”
“True,” Arethin said. “Very well. We shall take the mountain pass.”
Cassandra knew the way, and they left, over the Chancellor's loud objections.
The trek up to the mountain pass was not interrupted by any demons, which gave Arethin the chance to examine her new companions more closely. In the rush of things, she'd barely even had time to get their names. Looking at them now, she didn't think she liked what she saw. All three of them looked exhausted, their clothes in some disarray, their steps heavy.
Businesslike Cassandra was not wearing full armor or a helmet, instead a hastily strapped on breastplate over a plain tunic and leggings. Her black hair stuck up in all directions and she had dark circles under her eyes. Her golden-brown skin was sallow and greasy, as if she had had little opportunity to wash her face. Every once in a while, she would roll her shoulder, as if she had overextended it or was trying to work out a knot.
Varric was at least dressed for the weather in that he had a coat and gloves on, but he wasn't exactly the best prepared for battle, lacking even leather armor. His coat and tunic were both undone, exposing him to the cold, but he hardly noticed, firmly occupied with the task ahead. Like Cassandra, he had deep circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. There was a cut on his chin and a bruise on one cheek. He was somewhat thin under his heavy coat, and his face was gaunt in a way that she didn't like.
Clothing-wise, Solas was in the worse shape of all four of them, without so much as a coat, or armor, or even boots. Instead of shoes he had only an old-fashioned set of footwraps, the sort of thing one wore indoors or in the summer. His gray eyes were red from exhaustion, his sharp face pinched and drawn. His skin was already light, but had acquired the grayish hue of too many sleepless nights, and his gaze frequently darted up to the Breach in the sky.
All three of them appeared well enough to fight and continue on for the moment, but Arethin made a mental note to keep an eye on them. If she was to be fighting at the side of these people, they needed to be healthy. If they had been her Clanmates, she would have ordered all three of them go back to bed instead of go on a winter hike to hunt demons, but considering the circumstances, that wasn't exactly possible.
The mining complex had not escaped the demons, but they were mostly wisps and smaller things that were easy to deal with. Arethin's skin prickled as they picked their way through the tunnels, indicating a weakness in the Veil, but there was no rift nearby.
At the mouth of the tunnel, they found the bodies of three people, all dressed in the armor she had seen the other soldiers wearing.
“Guess we know what happened to the soldiers...” Varric muttered, shaking his head.
“This cannot be all of them,” Cassandra said with a frown.
“Perhaps there will be more up ahead,” Solas suggested.
As they made their way further down the path, Arethin could see the place where the Temple was supposed to be. When she first came here, Arethin had seen the Temple from afar, and it had been a huge and magnificent structure, towering over the valley. She had heard stories of a dragon once nesting there, and knew that the Warden-Commander had once been there to retrieve a powerful magical artifact.
Now there was nothing, a gaping hole where the building should have been, as obvious as a missing limb, the Breach swirling high overhead.
The Temple had been completely obliterated by the explosion. The ruins extended out almost a mile, shards of stone and glass peppering the snow and making travel hazardous. Arethin spared a glance for Solas, who was picking his way through the snow, careful to avoid anything sharp.
Arethin shuddered, the idea of going barefoot here making her toes curl involuntarily. A cut or a sprain here would be dangerous.
She caught the strangest scent of flowers on the air, and realized that a rift must be up ahead. She hurried forward, her companions close at her back, and saw a rift surrounded by a group of people who were battling demons. They must have been the rest of the missing scouts, although they didn't seem to be very missing at the moment.
This rift was small but persistently spitting out demons, and Arethin's companions had to fight them back in order for her to get close enough to close the rift.
This rift was cold, or at least cool enough that the snow around it remained unmelted. It was less resistant to her mark, or perhaps she was simply becoming better at closing them, because it sealed shut fairly quickly under her hand.
“You are becoming quite proficient at this,” Solas remarked when the rift was shut at last.
“Let's hope it works on the big one,” Varric said, eyeing the Breach with trepidation.
Cassandra went to the side of one of the scouts, who was getting to her feet after having been knocked over by a demon.
“Seeker Cassandra, I'm sorry,” the scout said to Cassandra. She was panting hard and leaning on her sword. “Those demons pinned us down—thank you so much for coming--”
“It is not me you should thank,” Cassandra gestured to Arethin. “She was the one who insisted we come this way.”
The scout blinked at Arethin. “The prisoner?”
“Not a prisoner at the moment, as you can well see,” Arethin informed her.
“Of course, my lady,” the scout nodded. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
The path down to the ruins grew more hazardous as they continued, larger slabs of rock, twisted metal and broken glass littering the slope.
Arethin shook her head—she had never seen anything like this devastation. In the snow, she spotted a huge statue, twice her height, broken and torn from its moorings. It had probably been a statue of Andraste at one time, but the arms were broken off and the face was destroyed. She could only marvel at the amount of force that had thrown it so far.
They met a man in Templar armor at the border of the proper ruins, where the debris ended and the foundations of the temple began. Arethin recognized him as one of the people who had been there when she had first awoken, the man who had never been introduced.
“Barris,” Cassandra inclined her head. “How is everything here?”
Barris shook his head. “Not good,” he said, his tone grim. Now that Arethin had a chance to really look at him, he had dark circles under his eyes, and a cut on one cheek. He was ashen under his mahogany skin, a sure sign of exhaustion. He glanced at her. “Will you be able to fix this?” he asked.
“I couldn't say,” she looked up at the sky. “But I shall try.”
Barris nodded. “Well—there's going to be demons in there,” he said. “Are you sure you don't need us to--”
“You will make it worse,” Arethin said, looking back down and meeting his eyes. “The Veil is in shreds—more people will just draw more spirits.”
Barris sighed. “Master Solas and the other mages told us that too,” he said, nodding at Solas. “But we thought we might have been able to cut the demons off at the source. Not so?”
“Nothing but the mark will affect the rifts, Ser Barris,” Solas said. “I assume you have tried?”
“Over and over again,” Barris said. “It never worked.”
“But her mark worked the first time,” Solas nodded at Arethin. “She stands the best chance of repairing this.”
Barris seemed skeptical, but agreed. “Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly,” he said. “We can't let this go on any longer than it's already done.”
Arethin nodded. “Absolutely,” she agreed.
He sighed deeply and stood aside to let them pass.
“When Leliana arrives, let her in,” Cassadra instructed him. “But no one else.”
They came onto a blasted plain. Arethin saw twisted structures she recognized, but only vaguely, as if they were from a dream. What she noticed most was the ground. Something had burned so hot that the dirt and sand had been turned to black glass.
That wasn't the worst of it, however.
The worst of it was the bodies, burned in an instant, some with veilfire clinging to them. Veilfire refused to go out. They seemed mummified, preserved, like the hands of someone's nightmares had reached out and shaped them into this.
“Creators...” Arethin breathed.
“You walked out here,” Cassandra said, her voice low. “You just—when we could get close, when the fire had died, we saw you, walking out of the temple. That thing on your hand, but no other injuries. Everyone around you was dead.”
Arethin didn't say anything.
“They say they saw a woman in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” Cassandra's tone was almost dreamlike.
“I don't remember,” Arethin said, looking down at one of the bodies. Green fire burned in its eyesockets. “I can't remember anything.”
“Perhaps it is good you don't remember that part,” Cassandra said, her voice so quiet Arethin had to strain to hear it.
They had to carefully make their way through the ruins, through the half-destroyed temple. Down a set of steps and through a collapsed hall, they came out to a large open space that had once been a great chamber.
At the center of the chamber was the first rift. This rift was strange, the clear source of the Breach, magic reaching up into the sky and pulling it open. The first rift wasn't like the others, it seemed only half-open. Arethin could only liken it to a bone that had set wrong, or a wound whose stitches were half-pulled out.
A breeze blew past them, and Arethin could smell oranges.
She wanted to be sick.
“That is the first rift,” Solas said. “If you can open it again, it can be sealed properly and safely, and with luck, that will seal the Breach.”
“If I open it, more spirits will come,” Arethin said.
“Then we must work quickly.”
“Seeker...” they glanced at Varric, and saw that he examined a strange outcropping of red rock.
“What is it?” Cassandra asked, coming to his side. He held an arm out, stopping her from getting much closer to the rock.
“Red lyrium,” he growled.
“Red lyrium?” Arethin gasped. “What's it doing here?”
Varric shook his head, his expression troubled. “I don't know,”
“Could the explosion have opened a vein--?” Cassandra asked, her brow knitted in worry.
“Is the Temple built on any Deep Roads?” Varric asked. “It would have to be pretty far down.”
Cassandra shook her head. “I do not know,” she admitted.
“Is it possible that a red lyrium artifact was here?” Arethin asked. “Are you sure it wasn't here before?” she eyed the red lyrium warily. Queen Aeducan had essentially declared a quarantine on Kirkwall because of the red lyrium artifacts there. Her gaze traveled up the rocky outcropping. It was quite large, grown into the shattered rock and stone of the Temple. It had a strange red haze about it, and was so hot that, like many of the rifts, it had melted the snow around it.
“I—I do not believe so,” Cassandra said.
“Maybe someone brought an artifact here,” Varric shook himself. “Come on—we have to try and close that Breach, don't we?”
“How are we going to get down there?” Arethin looked at the chamber. They stood on what was now a balcony, and the blast had thoroughly destroyed any steps that lead downwards, leaving a five-foot drop if they wanted to get any closer.
Leliana came around the corner, bringing with her several battered soldiers. Leliana herself had a bow slung over her shoulder, and her hood had come off, revealing mussed red hair.
“You're here!” she exclaimed, relieved. “Good.”
“We were attempting to figure out how to get closer,” Cassandra said.
“Here,” Leliana took a rope that one of the soldiers offered. “Use this. We can risk no accidents.”
“Thank you,” Arethin said, before she remembered to speak in Common and added “Thank you.”
Leliana simply nodded. Cassandra tied the rope to a nearby abandoned banister and they climbed down into the pit. First Arethin, then Cassandra, Varric, and Solas, and then Leliana and her soldiers followed as well.
They approached the rift, and immediately Arethin could feel the change in the Veil. It was strange and warped, almost rotten feeling. She shuddered, and a voice boomed around them.
“Keep the sacrifice still,”
Arethin flinched at the sound of the voice. It was deep, so deep it made her bones shudder, and it scraped at the back of her mind. Everyone looked around, but could see no source for the sound.
“Leave me, monster!”
That was a woman's voice, thickly accented and desperate.
“Where is that coming from?” Varric asked.
“That's the Most Holy,” Cassandra breathed. “That's her voice!”
“What in the name of all the Creators--?”
Arethin started. That was her voice, saying words she never remembered.
“That's your voice!” Cassandra exclaimed. “You were there!”
“I don't remember,” Arethin insisted.
They got closer, and the shadows began to move around them, defying the sunlight. A shadowy figure with burning eyes towered over them, and before it was another figure of white light.
“What is this?” Cassandra demanded, taking Arethin's shoulder. “What are we seeing?”
“I don't know!” Arethin snapped, shaking Cassandra off.
“Memories from this place,” Solas said. He was calm, in spite of the strangeness, far calmer than Cassandra or Varric. “The Fade bleeds into this world, providing the memories and feelings that were most recent.”
Another figure was formed, this one both shadow and light, and Arethin recognized the vague shape of her own armor.
“There is an intruder,” the man with burning eyes drawled. “Slay the elf.” he pointed with one long, clawed finger.
Arethin saw her shadow-self back up, holding out a staff.
“No—run while you can!” Justinia's shape exclaimed. “Warn them!”
The shapes faded into an indistinguishable mass once more.
“Most Holy called out to you for help,” Cassandra breathed.
“I don't remember,” Arethin said again, shaking her head. “I don't remember anything at all.”
“We cannot examine these memories now,” Solas said, pointing up to the rift. “You must devote your attention to that.”
Arethin nodded. She squared her shoulders, and raised her hand to the rift.
A horrible smell, oranges and rotting meat and hot metal, assaulted her nose as she tried to pry the Veil apart. Her stomach churned, and she felt woozy, different memories bursting into her mind all at once, as if someone was rifling through her thoughts.
Summer with the Clan in Antiva—a town attacked by bandits—the first time she saw a smithy--
She concentrated, and tore the rift open down the middle.
“Here,” she said. “Have you ever had an orange before?”
The world around her bent, and she realized something had come out of the rift. She could hear fighting, but didn't dare tear her focus away from the rift.
The town burned, and they smelled the smoke from miles away--“should we go near it? We always trade with them, we should at least see if they're alright--”
Very slowly, she tried to stitch the Veil back together. It was almost like real cloth, and she suddenly remembered the smell of silk pressed against her cheek--
She'd never even seen silk before, just wool and leather, and it was so fine and smooth, like holding water that someone had woven--
“Lavellan!” Solas touched her shoulder for just an instant, bringing her back to the world. “Concentrate!”
“I am,” she growled, and she clenched her fist and yanked, as if working a thread through a piece of leather. She did it again, and again, and overhead the Breach spat and cracked, and she did it again, but it still wouldn't close, and she did it again, and her legs went out from under her--
Again--
The world went gray--
Again--
She wasn't done--
Once, when she was a child, the craftsmaster had given her a puzzle. It was a curious object, or so she thought, a box of interlocking pieces. The trick to the puzzle was just to pull the pieces apart, however, they were caught and snagged in such a way that it was a bit like trying to untangle a wooden knot.
“Fascinating,” a voice murmured, and she looked up. By her side a massive white wolf sat, watching her try to undo the puzzle.
She stared up at the wolf. It had six sky-blue eyes, three on either side of its head. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Trying to solve the puzzle.”
“Oh.” she glanced down at the puzzle in her hand. The pieces seemed to shift and meld until she could hardly tell them apart, much less undo them. “Do wolves like puzzles?” she wasn't aware that they did.
“Some of them do.”
“I see.”