The finished research involved a great deal of magical theory that was difficult for one to grasp. There was some trouble understanding all of it, due to the language differences and the very specific schools of magic involved. Although the Dalish mages had coordinated with Fiona, Vivienne and the rest of their people, there were still complications in writing the actual theory down.
However, the full concept went something like this:
Mages were capable of working in tandem. The larger the party, the more difficult it was, hence why most mages worked on their own.
Arethin's problem, however, was that the Breach was too large to close by herself. Even though the mark acted like a foreign magical artifact, it still drew somewhat on her own magic to function, and the magic of one person simply wasn't enough to power such a large magical working.
Fiona and Vivienne's people had spent quite some time observing and containing the Breach, and they realized they would need at least twenty people to work in tandem with Arethin, supplying her the power she needed.
One problem, however, was that they needed to figure out a way to channel all of that magic through Arethin without hurting her. The vast majority of tandem spells weren't performed on a person, but on an object. That much magic going through one person could hurt Arethin if it wasn't performed exactly right, and so the mages that had been picked had practiced over and over again on people who were not Arethin until they perfected it.
So, they trudged back to the Temple, where it was as unpleasant as ever. Luckily, ever since Arethin's first failed attempt to seal the Breach, there were far fewer demons. The quarantine efforts had also helped considerably, reducing the number of people who might draw curious spirits.
Solas was still poring over the notes that Fiona had given him as they walked, his brow furrowed. Dorian peered over his shoulder, making last minute corrections and noting them to Vivienne.
“This seems sound enough,” Arethin said, looking over the plans herself.
“Yes, well, you say that now, but we don't want to blow your arm off, do we?” Dorian said.
She glanced at him, eyebrows together in a frown. “You know, Dorian, I don't need to think of that being a possibility.”
“It would not happen,” Solas said. He glanced at Fiona. “You are certain of your spellwork?”
“Of course,” Fiona rolled her eyes.
“Do you think we would endanger Lavellan with sloppy spellwork?” Vivienne asked, tossing her head.
“Well, you would prefer to endanger your Circles by damaging the Fade around them, so, yes, it is a distinct possibility.” Solas said.
“Now is not the best time for a fight,” Arethin said. “Although—how many Dalish mages do we have here?” she asked Lanaya.
“Several,” Lanaya said. “I summoned several of our own Veil experts to help.”
“Good, because otherwise, the Circle mages might make things unstable.”
“I beg your pardon?” Vivienne asked, her tone icy.
“The Veil is so thin that your paranoia and fear of your own magic, as well as that of the other Circle mages, might well draw demons,” Solas informed her.
Vivienne gave a light laugh. “I hardly draw demons, my dear—I would think that would be more your area.”
Lanaya chuckled. “People who think friendly thoughts draw friendly spirits where the Veil is thin,” she said. “People who are afraid of demons and think of all spirits as hostile? Well...”
“Yes, because a profound lack of regulation and enjoying the company of demons is ever so conducive to safety,” Vivienne said, glaring at Solas.
“Vivienne, Solas is probably safer than any of us,” Arethin said. “Somniari are quite adept at dealing with demons. If they live to adulthood, they have to be.”
Vivienne gave a tiny sigh. “Might we continue, if you please?”
Arethin smirked. “Of course.”
Arethin had to get close to the Breach for her mark to affect it, so they went to the site of the first rift again. The red lyrium was still there, as everyone had left it alone, not going near it even to clear it away. They avoided it as best they could, and fortunately, it did not seem to have grown any.
Arethin held her hand up to the sky, towards the Breach. Immediately she felt her whole body charge with magic, and she stiffened. Her mind felt buoyant and she couldn't concentrate, and she could smell lavender and oranges and--
Someone put a hand on her shoulder.
“Calmly,” came Solas' voice. “Focus on the Breach. That is not your magic. You are merely borrowing it.”
Arethin took a deep breath. Solas' hand was an anchor, steadying her thoughts. She reached out with the mark, and felt the others' magic flow through it. She grabbed hold of the broken edges of the Veil, and gasped—it felt as if she had taken hold of a piece of broken glass.
“That's different,” she muttered. “That isn't good.”
“The Fade is responding to thoughts of the Breach,” Solas said in her ear. “Surprise has given way to dread and terror, but you have the strength to close it. Now you need only the will.”
She nodded, and very slowly, closed her hand. She swore she could feel blood running down her arm, the pain biting and sharp and unrelenting, but she bit her lip and continued, clenching her fist, the smell of rust and smoke in her nostrils.
Her chest heaved, and she started to sway, feeling as if the air were pressing down on her. Solas tightened his grip on her shoulder, and she let out a hard breath through her nose.
The Breach began to close. Very slowly, inch by inch, she felt the two halves of the Veil knit together. It felt as if she were forcing two pieces of metal to weld together with her bare hands, but gradually, the sky began to close.
There was a sound like a clap of thunder, and she realized all of a sudden that the green glow of the Breach was absent. A snap, and the magic of the other mages was yanked away from her, making her vision gray out for a moment, and she stumbled.
Solas caught her before she could fall.
“'m alright,” she mumbled, wiping sweat off her forehead. “'m fine.”
“The Breach is gone,” Cassandra came to her side, and they all stared up at the sky. Cassandra made as if to take Arethin's other arm, but Arethin flinched, and Cassandra backed up.
“Good,” Arethin panted. “Very good.”
“Are you well?” Cassandra asked, her forehead furrowed in worry.
Arethin nodded. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. Backlash.”
Cassandra looked questioningly at Solas.
“Magical backlash,” he clarified. “She was the conduit for a very great deal of energy, and now that it gone, her body needs to compensate.”
“Remind me never to do group casting again,” Arethin sighed, finally letting go of Solas. She swayed again, cursed, and grabbed his elbow.
“It worked,” Fiona said. She and Vivienne and Dorian came over to them as well, Fiona looking concerned.
“Well, that's cheering,” Dorian said. “We should probably go back to Haven before Lavellan faints.”
“I am not going to faint,” Arethin informed him, glowering.
Dorian rolled his eyes and went to her other side, helping to hold her steady. “Nonsense,” he told her. “You're only a few shades above a corpse, and I should know.”
“Are you sure it is closed?” Cassandra asked them, glancing up at the sky again.
“Cassandra, if it were open, you would know,” Dorian said.
“The Veil is scarred here, but it is healed,” Solas told her. “It is safe to leave for now, although I would maintain the quarantine on the area for some time.”
“Yes, too many people could weaken the Veil again,” Fiona agreed. “Quite a bit of magic was already here—more people would make it worse.”
Cassandra nodded. “We will take precautions, of course,” she put her hand on Arethin's shoulder, and Arethin glared at her. Cassandra removed her hand.
“Well, that's over with for now,” Dorian said. “We should return, shouldn't we?”
The sky was closed, and continued to be closed.
Arethin stared up at the place where the Breach had been, still marveling. Haven was taking the time to celebrate, with many people dancing, drinking, or otherwise making merry.
Arethin sat out on the stone wall that overlooked Haven, and couldn't find it in her to celebrate. Her stomach was still in knots, and she didn't think this was a good time to let their guard down.
“Come on, take a break once in a while,” Sera had cajoled her. Sera was busy getting into a drinking contest with Bull, something Arethin was pretty sure wouldn't end well (even if it would be highly amusing to watch). Arethin had turned down her invitation, however, and felt restless, staring up at the sky.
Cassandra was avoiding her. Arethin told herself she didn't mind, then figured Cassandra probably needed to get her priorities in order.
Solas came to stand by her. She glanced up at him.
“Do you need something?” she asked with a sigh.
“No,” he said. “But you must consider the possibility that this is a temporary measure only,”
“What do you mean?”
He looked up at where the Breach had once been. “The damage that the Veil has sustained over time is...impressive.” he said.
“Do you think we will need to do more to fix it?”
“Possibly.” he glanced down at her hand, where the mark still glimmered. “Being able to manipulate the Veil directly would only help, if that is what you wished to do.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Should I want to do something else?” something prickled in the back of her mind. Warnings given by Keeper Zathrian, and things murmured by the spirits in the dead of night.
“You have not researched fully the uses of your mark,” he said. “There are many possible ways it could manipulate the Veil, beyond repairing immediate damage.”
“Ways like what?”
“You have opened rifts to heal them. Perhaps you could open rifts in a manner that would be safe for people both in the Fade and outside it.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“To see what would happen,” he said honestly, and she raised her eyebrows, mouth twitching in a tiny smile. “The openings in the Veil are almost universally traumatic,” he clarified. “Do you know what would happen if an opening were made cleanly, without pain?”
“I don't,” she admitted.
“Then perhaps that is an avenue to explore.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She peered at him. “That sounds reckless.”
He shrugged. “Your mark is still there. It seems less productive to not learn what can be done with it.”
“I suppose.” she sighed, and looked out towards the mountains. She narrowed her eyes. “Do you see something out there?”
He looked where she looked. He frowned.
There were lights on the mountain, like many torches coming their way.
“Cassandra should know about that,” Arethin said. “That doesn't look right.”
Solas nodded.
“The lookouts have no idea who that is,” Cassandra came up to them before Arethin had to go to her.
“No?" Arethin got to her feet. "Are they—how many people is that?”
“Large enough to be an army,” Cassandra worried her lip between her teeth.
“They aren't under any banner,” Josephine had come out as well, to stare at the oncoming lights with her eyes narrowed.
“Do you think they're hostile?” Arethin asked, though the moment the question was out of her mouth she realized it was entirely likely that they were.
“It would be best to prepare for them as if they were,” Solas said quietly.
“I agree,” Cassandra nodded, and strode down the hill, shouting orders to the guards. Josephine shuddered.
“We should tell the others,” Arethin said. “Hopefully no one's too drunk to fight.”
Solas grimaced.
She located Sera, Dorian, and Vivienne. Iron Bull had already spotted the lights as well and gathered the Chargers together. Fiona and Lanaya pulled their people back to the keep as well. Josephine shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous, and both Leliana carried a loaded crossbow in her hands.
“We're boxed in if they're attackers,” Lanaya said, shaking her head and staring out at the mountain.
Vivienne gritted her teeth. “We should have moved the instant the Breach was closed,” she said, pacing back and forth as they waited for news.
“It was hardly twelve hours ago, Vivienne, we wouldn't have gotten anywhere,” Dorian reminded her.
They all looked as Cassandra came hurrying over, Varric in her shadow.
“Some of the forward scouts see people wearing Templar armor,” Cassandra said.
“Some of the scouts talked about monsters made up of red crystals,” Varric said with a grimace. “That'd be the red lyrium.”
“I need to lead the troops,” Cassandra said. “Keeper, Grand Enchanter--”
“This is your ground, Seeker,” Fiona said. “We will defer to you.”
“Yes, our people don't know this area well,” Lanaya agreed.
“What are the weapons here with the longest range?” Vivienne asked.
“Artillery,” Cassandra nodded and swept away, towards the catapults that were positioned within the bounds of Haven.
“Madame de Fer, would you be willing to lend those skills you used in your defense of Val Royeaux?” Fiona asked.
Vivienne gave a smile. “But of course, my dear.”
The others glanced at each other.
“Keeper?” Arethin asked Lanaya, who shook her head.
“We'll put our archers at the walls,” she said. “Madame de Fer, Grand Enchanter, our mages can coordinate with you. Lavellan--”
“I can work with the mages,” Arethin said, squaring her shoulders.
“No,” Lanaya shook her head.
“No?" Arethin stared at her, aghast. "Keeper--”
“We might need you later,” Lanaya said. “What if that Breach tears open again?”
“But--”
“Lavellan, please.”
Arethin narrowed her eyes. “Lanaya--”
Someone pounded on the gate. Everyone jumped, and looked at each other.
Cassandra came back over. “We called everyone in,” she said. “Who--?”
“One of the Dalish hunters, Lady Cassandra!” called a man from on top of the wall.
“He's not one of us!” a hunter called back.
“Then who is it?”
“Don't stand there debating all blessed night!” came a bellow through the gate. “Let me in or do not!”
“Open the gate,” Arethin called.
A man practically fell through the open gate. He straightened, and Arethin was struck by vivid yellow vallaslin on a golden-skinned face.
“Who are you?” Arethin asked.
“That does not matter,” the man said. “The army that is on the way--
“We can see it,” she said. “What do you know about it?”
The man nodded vigorously. “I know enough. They really can't stand you.”
“Well,” Vivienne rolled her eyes. “That is certainly enlightening.”
The man sighed. “Listen to me,” the man said. “You have...a very bad problem at the moment.”
“Felassan,” Lanaya breathed. Arethin whirled to face her.
“What?”
“That's Felassan!” Lanaya repeated, and the so-named Felassan gave an exasperated huff.
“Oh—we don't have time for this!” he exclaimed. “That—that thing, that thing that has been calling the Wardens and anyone infected with red lyrium,” he shuddered. “It
is—a very old, very nasty darkspawn, and it came with a Blighted dragon.” he pointed over the mountain. “They're both coming this way, and you need to get out of here, now.”
“Where would we go?” Cassandra demanded. “We cannot simply abandon this place to go wander through the wilderness--”
“There's a fortress, to the north,” the man said. “Abandoned, huge, and forgotten. If you get out of the way of the army, you can reach it.”
"How do we even know to believe you?” Arethin demanded. “Why are you here?”
“I am here to help,” Felassan insisted. “And I say to you, you very direly need my help.”
“But how do we get out of the army's way?” Arethin demanded.
He sighed. “That, I couldn't tell you,” he said.
“There might be a back way out,” Leliana said. “This town has many back passages and strange paths in and out of it. If we got everyone to the Chantry--”
“That would only work if you stopped them from following you,”
“We can use the artillery to cause avalanches,” Barris had come out, and was watching the approaching army with a critical eye.
“Then do that,” Arethin instructed.
Barris nodded, and shouted commands to some of the soldiers on the walls. Within a few moments, one of the trebuchets launched a missile at the mountain.
Snow fell down the side of the mountain, swamping a good portion of the army, and they felt the rumbles from Haven.
Cassandra smirked despite herself.
“That won't stop them for long,” Felassan said. “That darkspawn thing is very determined.”
“And what would you suggest we do?” Arethin asked.
“Well, start more avalanches, for one.”
“Very well,” she said.
The trebuchets were used to great effect. Arethin was a little worried about starting an avalanche on their side of the mountain, but they couldn't worry about that now. One thing at a time.
The army blocked off the main roads, and where the army didn't block it, snow did. They gathered their people into Haven, where mages on the walls did their best to assist the artillery and they tried to find another way out.
The army, when it finally came close enough that they could see its soldiers, was made up of people in Templar armor.
They all had red lyium glow about them, or worse. Some were little more than red lyrium monsters, covered in the red mineral.
“I suppose that is where Lambert's Templars must have gone,” Cassandra said, staring out at the Templars.
Leliana was certain that there were caves of some variety, but they had yet to find a path that they knew lead away from the village.
“Dragon!” came a bellow from one of the troops, and everyone ducked as a huge dragon swooped overhead.
“Get back to the Chantry!” Cassandra cried, and everyone ran for it. The dragon began to burn the town, spitting white fire. They pulled back to the Chantry as best they could, as it was the only building that could withstand the fires.
When the dragon came, finally the Templars reached them, and with no one left to guard the walls, they burst into Haven proper. There was a mad scramble as everyone bolted for the Chantry, trying to avoid both the fire and the Templars.
All was in chaos when they slammed the doors of the Chantry closed.
Arethin's chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath.
“Who made it back?” she asked, looking around. “Who are we missing?”
“I don't know,” Cassandra shook her head. “We can't count yet.”
“What do we do?”
“We cannot go back out there,” Vivienne said. “The walls are lost--”
Felassan appeared at Arethin's side, making her jump. “It's you he wants,” he told her, voice grim.
Arethin blinked. “Me? Why?”
“That thing on your hand,” he said, nodding to it. “It draws an awful lot of power. You can practically feel the magic coming off of it.”
“Then why hasn't he come before?”
“Probably couldn't find you until you closed the Breach,” Felassan shrugged. “Or he wasn't prepared. Or closing the Breach made him angry. I'm sure you can ask him yourself once he gets here.”
“Then what do we do now?'
“You need to go to the mountains--”
“But how?”
“There is—a way out of the Chantry,” the all turned. Chancellor Roderick leaned heavily against the wall, blood seeping from a wound in his stomach.
“What?” Arethin murmured.
“A back passage—you wouldn't know it unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage.”
Arethin approached him, first holding a hand out, but then putting her hand down. “Where does it lead?”
“To the mountains,”
Arethin nodded. “Felassan—this fortress, where is it?”
“Here,” Felassan passed her a sheaf of parchment. “A map.”
Arethin looked at the map, then handed it to Cassandra, a plan forming in her head. She took a deep breath. “We need to distract that dragon and that darkspawn beast,” she said. “So everyone else can get out.”
“How?” Cassandra asked.
“I can draw him off,” Arethin said.
“No!” Keeper Lanaya exclaimed. “Absolutely not!”
“Lanaya, he wants me,” Arethin said.
“We only have the word of—that one—that that's true!” Lanaya pointed at Felassan.
“Well, if it's not true, he'll have a mage running around and distracting him from everyone else,” Arethin said.
“Lavellan--” Lanaya gritted her teeth. “Deshanna told me to make sure--”
“I don't care,” Arethin snapped. “I'm of better use out there than in here. If Deshanna told you what happened, you know why.”
Lanaya looked stricken. “At least take someone to help you,” she said, switching back to Common.
Arethin looked around at her companions. “But—if--”
“You're not runnin' around fightin' a dragon without me,” Sera informed her. “And if mages're good for anything it's fighting dragons, I bet,”
“Indeed we are,” Dorian said with a dangerous smile. “Don't even think of leaving help behind, Lavellan.”
Arethin sighed, and made up her mind. “Very well—Solas, Sera, Vivienne, Dorian, you're with me—short range fighters and everyone else, stay with the civilians.”
Cassandra caught Arethin's arm. “Lavellan—are you sure you won't need another warrior?”
Arethin glanced over at Dorian, then Vivienne, who each met her gaze. Vivienne drew a spectral sword from thin air.
“Trust us, Seeker,” Dorian said, and fire began to creep up his arms. “We will be fine.”
“Don't need to be creepy about it,” Sera grumbled, stringing her bow.
“Think about it like this,” Arethin said, as the group set off towards the doors “You can make as much noise as you please.”
Sera grinned. “That works, then—let's make some friggin' noise!”
They left the relative safety of the Chantry and were immediately swarmed with red lyrium Templars.
They were even worse up close. The big ones lumbered forward relentlessly, arrows bouncing off the rocky hide. Only spells or bombs were able to dispatch the horrors, and when they fell the red lyrium broke off in huge pieces to flake onto the snow. Despite this, however, no skin was revealed, almost as if they had never been anything but made of the red crystals.
Vivienne and Dorian were fascinating to watch in an all-out battle. Vivienne relentlessly charged opponents, fast as lightning with her spectral blade. Dorian left both fire and stirring corpses in his footprints, a profoundly unnerving effect.
Sera and Solas stayed back, Sera strafing the field with arrows and lobbing bombs, Solas providing Barriers and twisting the Veil in a way that was gut-wrenching to the nearby mages and certainly deadly to the Templars.
“Where to now?” Sera asked when they'd dealt with the first wave of Templars.
“This way,” Arethin gestured with her staff. “Down to that trebuchet. The further away from the Chantry, the better—and we might use it to hold off the army.”
They hurried to the trebuchet, rescuing those people they could and wading through more of the Templars.
The trebuchet was coated in ice, and creaked and groaned when it was moved. With a great effort, they managed to get the trebuchet turned around.
“Here it comes,” Vivienne said, pointing to the sky.
Sera held her bow up and shot several arrows, but they seemed to have no effect. Likewise, the mages all aimed and shot several spells, but those two did nothing.
The dragon landed heavily on the snow, and the smell that rolled off of it was nauseating. Rotting meat and blood, it had a smell like a carcass eight days dead and left in the sun. It cut Arethin off from the others, and she tried to dodge around it to get to them, but it blocked her.
“Lavellan!” she heard Dorian shout.
“Get out of here!” Arethin yelled. “I'll find you!”
She heard Sera swear a blue streak, but all thoughts of her companions were cut off when the man came into view.
The first thought that came to one's mind when one saw him was that he must be a man. He had arms and legs and a head. But truth be told, he barely resembled a man at all. He was absolutely enormous, easily the size of a bear standing on its hind legs. His body was twisted and enstranged, the muscles wasted away to nothing. His flesh was sparse, mostly covered by cloth and strange rocky growths, but where it was clear it looked like paper stretched to cover his bones. He had long, long arms that ended in huge hands with pointed claws.
If the dragon smelled like death, then the man smelled worse, somehow. Not like a corpse, his smell was of ashes and fire, bringing to mind burning libraries, books upon books whose pages were crisped and burnt to ash.
Arethin couldn't move. The smell choked her, that terrible ashen smell, like the death of nations.
“Pretender,” his voice rumbled in her bones, and when he talked the strange rocky growth on the side of his head pulled at his scarred mouth. “You toy with forces beyond your ken, no more.”
His voice was never meant to be heard, the voice of something a thousand years dead.
“I pretend nothing,” she snarled, and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She staggered backwards and tripped and almost fell. She glanced up behind him, at the mountain, but couldn't see anything. She could only hope that everyone was making a quick way out of the Chantry—not to mention Sera, Solas, Vivienne and Dorian.
“Do you not?” the man's burning silver eyes slid down to the mark on her hand. “You wield stolen power you do not understand. What else could you be?”
“I stole nothing,” she said.
His mouth twisted. “Know me,” his voice made her bones shake. “Know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One—the will that is Corypheus.”
“Corypheus?” she breathed. That was a nightmare name, a magister name, the name of conquerers and destroyers. She took a breath and summoned her courage. “If anyone's the pretender here, it's you,” she accused. “You're a darkspawn thing that wants to be something else. You're just poison and magic, no more.”
He snarled again, and stepped forward. She shook, but didn't move.
“You will kneel,” he commanded.
“I will not.”
He shook his head, as if disappointed. “You resist. You will always resist—but it is no matter in the end.” in one hand, he held a curious artifact. It was an orb that gleamed Fade-green and had a sort of fingerprint pattern on it. “What you believe is of no consequence.” he raised the orb. “I am here for the Anchor.”
The orb shone a poisoned red, and Arethin cried out, her mark brimming with pain. She was forced to her knees, and Corypheus strode closer. She tried to back away, but she couldn't move.
“I do not know how you yet live,” he was so close to her now, all she could smell was burning books. “You were a mistake, an accident. What you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”
There was a bang, and the mark blazed with agony, a hundred white-hot needles piercing through her veins.
“And then you used it to undo my work. The gall.”
She took several deep breaths, and forced herself to look at him. She glared, not trusting her voice.
He snatched her up by her marked hand, as easily as lifting a doll. Her shoulder screamed at her, almost wrenched from its socket, and she came face-to-face with him, staring into his silver eyes.
“I once breached the Fade in the name of another,” he snarled, and she cried out as pain lanced through her arm again. “To serve the gods of the Empire in person. I found nothing—only chaos and corruption, dead whispers. For a thousand years I was lost, no more.”
Tears spilled down her face, unbidden, his voice reaching into her mind and scraping it raw, the smell of ash and dead knowledge almost too much to bear.
“Beg that I succeed,” he murmured. “For I have seen the throne of the gods—and it was empty.”
He dropped her, and she gasped for air, reaching out for the first solid thing she could find—the handle of a sword. She scrambled away, her legs almost giving out on her, and came up against something solid.
The trebuchet.
He strode towards her, his steps slow and unhurried.
“The anchor is permanent,” he rumbled. “You have spoilt it with your stumbling.” he pulled his lips away from his teeth, and Arethin moved back, trying to put the trebuchet between her and him.
He didn't lash out at her again, which made her stomach drop—the possibility that this thing needed her alive, needed her for something else, made her mind flare with sudden horror.
Over the mountains, she saw the tiniest of flares. She sucked in a breath.
She drew the sword against Corypheus, and hoped against hope that everyone had gotten out of the way.
She slammed her foot against the starting mechanism for the catapult, and it flung a rock over Haven, and into the mountainside. She heard the rumble of an avalanche, and she, Corypheus and the dragon all turned as one to look at the mountain.
Before anyone could do anything, a wall of snow slammed into all of them, and Arethin knew no more.
When awareness came back to her, with it came the awful realization that she was completely buried in snow. She sucked in a panicked breath and inhaled water before she coughed and remembered where she was.
With a great effort, she managed to create a quick heat spell that began to melt the snow around her. Everything hurt, and her left arm was on fire with pain. Even so, she stuck her other arm straight up, hoping she hadn't gotten buried upside-down. The water that formed from the snowmelt trickled down her side, so she was lucky in that regard.
She dug upwards, and after a few moments, burst through the snow. She was freezing, soaking wet, and exhausted, but she was alive. She found herself in some kind of cave or passage, and looking up, she saw the glint of stars overhead. She must have fallen into a cellar or one of the tunnels under Haven Leliana had mentioned.
She walked forward, through the passage, everything hurting. Eventually, she came out of the cave, onto the mountainside, and shivered. It was nighttime, and the wind blew hard, going right through her ruined jacket.
She rubbed her arms, calling magical heat, but she was so exhausted that she knew it wouldn't last long. She wasn't sure if she should stay in the cave or leave, try to find the others. It was possible that Corypheus was still out there, and searching for her.
It would be foolish to try and walk out into the snow, so underequipped, at night. She gritted her teeth, and clung to the inside of the cave.
She was so cold. And tired. She wanted little else than to go to sleep, but she knew she couldn't. That would be very bad.
If she stayed here, they might find her.
The ashen smell of Corypheus was still in her nostrils, and every noise she heard made her flinch, searching for the dragon overhead.
Some time passed, and she found herself walking. She blinked. She wasn't sure when she'd started to do that.
She looked behind her, and found that she'd left the cave behind. Her tracks were covered by the snow. She looked overhead, and saw the larger of the two moons, shining silvery light down on her.
She was so tired. She sunk in snow up to her calves, and every step took a little more energy than the last.
She sank to the ground. The snow was so inviting, strangely. She just wanted to sleep.
The world faded away, and the last thing she heard was the howling of wolves. Someone wrapped their hand around her arm.