The Wardens had returned to Adamant Fortress. They learned this some time after the encounter with Erimond in the Approach, and it was a bit of a surprise.
“Why would they be back?” Arethin asked. “They weren't there before, were they?”
“Probably because you chased them away from everywhere else,” Surana said, looking down at the map. “The Orlesian Wardens wouldn't go to Ferelden, Weisshaupt is too far away, and you have people all over—everywhere, honestly.”
Arethin shook her head. “Is there any way we can talk to them?”
“After that stunt with Erimond? ” Surana gave a harsh laugh. “No, of course not. Can we get there, do something about them?” she asked Leliana.
“It's possible,” Leliana said. “However, the Venatori appear to be massing in that area.” her expression was troubled.
“How are we to get inside Adamant?” Cassandra asked. “If we cannot speak with them...”
Surana chewed the inside of her cheek.
“You'll need a lot of people to get into Adamant,” she said.
“It is quite a good thing we have an army then, isn't it?” Arethin said.
Surana laughed. “It sure is.”
“An army against the magic that Erimond was wreaking out there?” Bann Teagan asked, raising his eyebrows.
“We have to,” Arethin said. “They are important to Corypheus for some reason, and likely acting against their will.”
Fiona nodded. “We must do something for them,” she said in agreement.
To get to Adamant, they were forced to go to an eluvian in the Western Approach. In spite of the Alliance presence, the Approach was still crawling with Venatori and general hostile wildlife, and there were no Dalish Clans this far west. There were a few Deep Roads entrances, but this far west one was past the Dead Trenches, and it would be suicide to make a settlement out here.
Griffin Wing Keep was still held by the Alliance, although apparently the Venatori had made attacks on it.
To Arethin's surprise, she found the man who had called himself Blackwall, helping to guard the keep. He went by Ranier now, and was apparently trying to make up for his mistakes.
“How did you even get out here?” she asked when she spotted him.
“The slow way. I don't exactly have fancy magical mirrors to help me, you know,' he told her, glowering under his eyebrows.
Sera was delighted. “Beardy!” she exclaimed when she saw him. “Doin' alright, yeah? Sorry these pricks tossed you out—did you hear we got a castle, now?”
“I did hear,” Ranier was happy to see Sera as well, and the pair of them moved off to talk.
“Has there been much movement, from the Wardens or the Venatori lately?” Arethin asked the man in charge of the keep.
He frowned and shook his head. “Some from the Venatori, not any Wardens,' he said. “Ever since you chased them out of here, they've been gone.”
Arethin exchanged a look with Surana.
“It makes sense,” Surana said. “They don't want to fight you, and Erimond might have pulled them back.” she grimaced. “Don't want to jeopardize Corypheus' demon army or whatever,” she growled, and shook her head. “I knew these Orlesian idiots were half-useless when they got themselves killed by the Architect's people, but this...?”
“We'll find them,” Arethin assured her. “We shall fix this. It could be that all we must do is slay Erimond and remove the Wardens from Corypheus' influence.”
They trekked through the desert, taking with them a large number of Alliance forces so they could make an attempt at attacking Adamant. There were no eluvians closer to Adamant, so they went the long way around. Hawke, who had come with them as far as Griffin Wing Keep, chose to stay at the keep and help to defend it, having evidently had enough of this business with the Wardens.
Ranier joined them.
“I claimed to be one of them for a long time,” was his explanation. “I should see if I can help.”
Adamant was ready for them. The walls were guarded, and Wardens stood, watching for any enemy.
The Alliance forces approached, but Surana stopped them before they could go too far.
“I might be able to do something,” she said.
“Like what?” Arethin asked.
“I have no idea. Just let me speak to them.”
Arethin shrugged. “If you wish. You must be quick, however.”
Surana stepped forward.
“Clarel!” she bellowed, using magic to amplify her voice. “Clarel, get out here before I drag you out!”
A tall human woman appeared over the gate.
“Surana?” she called, surprised.
“You're damn straight! What in the name of Andraste's sanctified girdle are you people doing?”
“I do not have to explain myself to you!”
“Explain it to me, or explain it to this battering ram!' Surana pointed at the battering ram that helpfully accompanied them.
“We seek to end the Blights completely! You will not obstruct us in this task!”
Surana scoffed. “What, you idiots who can barely hold a sword the right way around? Come on, Clarel! That Tevinter prick doesn't know what he's talking about!”
“You—come with these people who attacked my forces in the Approach, who insult me to my face—I should listen to you?”
“Better me than the Venatori!”
“There are no Venatori here!”
“Is there a prick named Erimond hanging about up there?”
“Surana, this isn't getting us anywhere,” Arethin said. “I'm giving her a minute before I give the order to start the assault.”
Surana nodded. “Open the gate now, or we start shooting!”
“We will not bow to the Alliance! We will not bow to anyone, no matter what you might say!”
Surana shook her head. “Do it,” she told Arethin.
Arethin waved to her troops, and they headed for the gate. Several barriers kept the Wardens' spells and arrows off her people's backs until they managed to bash the door down and swarm inside.
It was a trickier thing inside. Immediately they were met with resistance—huge warriors with mauls and swords, and scattered mage assistance.
Adamant was full of demons, the Veil inside feeling ripped and torn. Strangely, there was only one rift that Arethin could feel, a small one, very deep inside the fortress.
They fought their way through the fortress, many of Arethin's companions being drawn off somewhere else, but Surana, Solas, Sera, Dorian, Cassandra and Iron Bull managing to stay close by her side.
Surana was a marvel to see in battle. It had been she who had brought the art of the arcane warrior back to life, finding the knowledge within an ancient artifact in the Brecelian, and she was magnificent with it.
She cut down foes with a long and elegant blade of shining metal, suffered hardly a scratch as the Wardens sent their best against her. Arrows sailed to her and glanced off her shields, swords were turned aside, and to her armor meant little. What she could not defend against, she avoided, bursting into a cloud of stinging black flies or turning into a bird to flit away.
Arethin had hardly ever seen the like.
Finally Arethin and her group came to a courtyard where Clarel and Erimond addressed a crowd of Wardens.
“Clarel!” Arethin shouted when she entered the courtyard.
Clarel looked up. She blinked, and her eyes were riveted to Surana instead of Arethin.
“Surana,” she clenched her jaw.
Erimond scowled. “Clarel, they can't be allowed to interfere,” he hissed in her ear.
“Clarel, don't,” Arethin said. She looked around, hoping for any Warden that might be able to fight whatever spells Erimond and Corypheus had imposed on them, but she found none. “No,” she breathed.
Surana looked around as well. “No,” she hissed. “Not—not to all of them!”
“You'll shred the Veil with this,” Arethin said. “Is that what you want? More spirits and demons coming through?”
Clarel slumped, and blood began to ooze from her nose.
“Surana,” she hissed.
“Hush,” Erimond told her. “Corypheus needs an army. It doesn't matter how he gets it. What use is the Veil anyway? Some elvhen artifact, used to strip people of their power? I would have thought even you would see the pointlessness to that.”
Arethin and Solas exchanged a worried look. How did he know about that?
Erimond stepped closer to them, and the crowd of Wardens parted for him. “Corypheus needs demons, so he will have them. But Wardens aren't so bad either.” he smirked. “And you must admit the irony is rather...amusing.”
“If I kill you, his army's gone,” Arethin said, raising her staff.
“Ah, but so are their minds.” Erimond grinned. “If I'm gone, then—bang! Out like a candle. Do you really want that to happen?”
Arethin clenched her jaw. “If it gets Corypheus one less thing he can use--”
“It's coming,” Clarel said suddenly. Blood was pouring from her nose now, dripping from her chin. “Surana,” Clarel croaked. “It's coming. You need—you need to--”
Erimond's face twisted. “Stop,” he hissed, and Clarel groaned, pressing the heels of her hands to her temples.
“He's coming,” she said. “Stop. You need to—need to—”
A dragon shrieked overhead, and they all jumped.
“Corypheus,” Arethin breathed. She stared at Erimond. “What is he doing here?” she demanded. “What does he want?”
“You, I presume,” Erimond said with a shrug.
Surana let out a cry and fell to her knees as the dragon shrieked over head. Blood gushed from her nose and she stared up with bloodshot eyes.
“Surana!” Arethin cried.
“I can hear him,” she whispered. “I can—I can--”
Arethin called for a healer, and Erimond took the moment to turn and run. Clarel staggered after him, surprisingly quick on her feet, and Arethin followed them at a run. The companions closest to her, Cassandra, Sera, Dorian, Solas and Iron Bull were right behind her.
“If Corypheus is here, our forces need to pull back,” Solas said. “You need to sound a retreat.”
“I think they are going to retreat just fine without me,” Arethin said.
They chased Erimond up the stairs, the dragon circling the castle. It seemed to be following them, not picking a place to land, and that did not bode well for them.
At last, Erimond came to stop on a balcony at the very top of the keep. Clarel skidded to a halt before him, reaching out with her hand, then stopping. She shook, frozen, hand outstretched.
Erimond simply shook his head at her, disappointed, as the dragon circled them. Arethin and her group stopped at the top of the stairs, watching the dragon.
The dragon came to land on the balcony, making the Keep shake with its arrival.
Clarel screamed, broken from her trance, and clapped her hands over her ears.
“Stop that,” Erimond instructed.
She bit her lip and whimpered behind her teeth, blood trickling down her face to drip off of her chin.
“Really, I don't understand the problem,” Erimond tutted, as the dragon stepped forward. With it came a terrible smell, like a new grave in the summer, and a cloud of flies surrounded the thing.
Arethin and her group stepped back as one, uncertain of what to do. The dragon kneeled down, its neck close to the ground, allowing the figure riding on its back to step off.
Corypheus dismounted the dragon, and his immense size seemed even more overwhelming compared to Erimond, who barely came up to his chest.
“So,” he said, and Clarel cried out again at the sound of his voice and collapsed to the ground. His silver eyes were riveted on Arethin. “You are here, thief.”
“And you are here,” Arethin said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Corypheus glanced at Solas. “And you,” one side of his mouth twisted.
Meanwhile, Clarel dragged herself across the ground, to Erimond, and the dragon.
“Clarel...” Erimond warned.
“You...” Clarel gasped, spitting blood from her mouth. “You have killed us...”
“You did that yourself.”
“Then you will come with us.” Clarel's hands glimmered with a lightning spell, and the veil around them practically cracked in two with the force of it.
“Clarel--!” Erimond shouted, but Clarel did not heed him, and her spell struck home before anyone could stop it.
The balcony crumbled from underneath them. Everyone began to fall. The dragon took off, Corypheus with it, and Arethin and her companions backed up, then ran, trying to avoid the falling floor.
They were not fast enough, and they all fell, straight towards the rift that hovered in the sky above the courtyard.
In one last effort, Arethin thrust her hand open and yanked at the Veil, cracking it like she would crack glass.
The rift tore open, and they plummeted into it. For a moment she smelled vinegar, then everything went dark, as if she had dived into a pool of black water. There was nothing around her, no light, no ground, no forwards or backwards. She just continued to fall.
Then she found herself rushing at a rocky face, and just before she hit it, she stopped with a gasp. She flailed for a moment, disoriented in the lack of gravity. She breathed hard through her nose, and reached out and touched the rock.
The minute her finger touched the rock, she plummeted to the ground. She sucked in a breath, the wind knocked out of her.
“Are you alright?'
She looked up, and saw Solas standing over her.
“Fine,” she said, and got to her feet, stumbling before managing to orient herself. The others were there as well, all in various states of disorientation. Only Solas seemed fine and upright. There was no Erimond, no Clarel, no Corypheus, and no dragon, which was fortunate. Less fortunate were the confusing conditions they were in.
“Where are we?” Cassandra asked, looking around.
The area where they were was entirely rock, and felt...strange. Arethin looked up, and saw the sky was green.
“We're in the Fade,” Arethin breathed.
“The Fade?” Bull exclaimed, looking around and holding his ax tighter. Sera began to swear vehemently, casting about and rubbing her shoulders in an anxious way.
“How did we get here?” Dorian asked. “This makes no sense—how are we here?”
“We must have gone through the rift I opened,” Arethin said, and shook her head. “I didn't know we could physically pass through the rifts--”
“Normally, we should not be able to,” Solas said. “However, in a rift large and unstable enough...and perhaps driven by a singular motivation...”
“Perhaps the motivation to not fall to our deaths?”
“Like that, yes.”
“Perfect,” Dorian muttered. “You do recall that the last time anything of this like happened--”
“It was Corypheus, I know, Dorian,” Arethin waved a hand. “We are hardly planning to go to the Golden City.”
“We would not be able to reach it,” Solas said. “See—it is almost close enough to touch,” he pointed overhead, at the dark mass of a city far overhead. “But we cannot reach it.”
“Figures you wouldn't mind being here,” Sera growled at him.
“How do we get out of here?” Iron Bull asked. “I really don't want to stick around and get possessed by a demon.”
“You would not be unless you allowed it to, Bull,” Solas reminded him, and patted him on the shoulder.
“I appreciate that, but it's still...creepy.”
Solas nodded. “I believe this place might be home to a nightmare demon, or some other creature of that variety.”
“How can you tell?” Arethin asked.
“Can you not feel it? Fear sunken into the rock and air. Many people had nightmares here, and a demon fed off of that fear.”
They all shuddered, and Arethin felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“Solas—the Veil—can we take it down from here?” Arethin asked.
Solas shook his head. “No, we don't have the power,” he said.
“I still do not think we should do such a thing,” Cassandra said.
“It is irrelevant whether we should or not,” Solas said. “We cannot.”
“Are you sure?” Arethin asked, narrowing her eyes.
“You are the only one who might have that ability at this time,” Solas said. “Could you do it?”
Arethin blinked. “That wouldn't be a good idea.” she could not articulate why this was, she just knew that if she were to try it here something bad would happen.
“Exactly.”
“Who is it who enters my domain?”
That voice shook their bones. It coiled around them like something that was almost alive, black and cold, viscous and dripping, and listening to it was like sinking into an oily black pool.
“Ah—the Alliance. How delightful.”
A taste like biting a razor blade, feeling it sink into your mouth, blood dripping down your chin--
Another sound came to Arethin's ears, and she realized Dorian was murmuring the Chant of Light to himself.
“Be calm,” Solas advised them. “This particular spirit feeds on fear and nightmares. If you are afraid, you will make it stronger, and it will invest more effort into making you afraid.”
“Ah, Fen'harel, always so clever,” there was a smile in that voice, too many teeth crawling with insects, a bloated corpse in the summer. “Not quite clever enough to avoid all of that death, though, were you?”
“Arethin, is there any way that you can tear the Veil again, and we can escape?” Solas asked, ignoring the demon.
Shaking herself, Arethin felt around. The Veil was thick here, and she was fairly sure they were in a different area than when they entered. She shook her head. “I think we'd have better luck finding somewhere that already had damage,” she said. “Where did we come in? It couldn't have closed by itself.”
“No, I think we landed somewhere far away from the rift,” Dorian said.
“There,” Cassandra pointed. Far away, up a jumbled collection of boulders, was a rippling tear in the normality of the Fade. “That must be it. We fell quite a long ways.”
“Cassandra.” the demon rumbled to itself, murmuring in their ears. “A Seeker of Truth. But what is truth, Seeker? Your Chantry seems to be built of nothing but lies upon lies. I wonder where the Maker is in all of this?”
Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut, and Arethin took her hand.
“Die in the Void, demon,” Cassandra growled.
“Come,” Arethin said, pointing up a set of stairs. “This way.”
They made their way up the stairs, through the jagged rocks and ruins. Gravity seemed to work on a case-by-case basis in the Fade, with statues and buildings floating as they willed.
Experimentally, Dorian jumped up and down a few times.
“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked, staring at him.
“I'm trying to figure out why we're staying on the ground.” he said. “I can't work out why anything else is or isn't.”
“I would advise you not do that, unless you wish this to turn into a falling nightmare,” Solas advised. “As our bodies are here and not just our minds, I would suggest caution.”
“Wait—what would you be doing, if it was just our minds here?” Dorian asked. “Would you suggest trying to test gravity then?”
Solas considered that. “Repealing the laws of gravity attracts demons when one is directly in the Fade, especially in areas such as this,” he said. “I would still not advise it.”
“There has to be something good to come from all this weird crap,” Bull said. “Can you ever fly around in the Fade? I've had flying dreams before.”
“It depends,” Solas said. “As the Fade is built of emotions and the mind, it is much more mutable than the physical world. However, too much activity or certain kinds of activities in the wrong place or time can result in unwanted attention.”
They came to the top of the hill, where a woman waited. She was dressed in a Chantry habit, her long white robe immaculate and shining.
“Justinia?” Cassandra whispered.
She smiled. “Cassandra.”
“Cassandra, don't,” Arethin put an arm out to stop Cassandra getting too close.
“But--”
'That is likely not Justinia, but a being wearing her likeness,” Solas explained.
“Like wearin' her skin as a mask?” Sera made a face. “Creepy.”
“Not quite,” Solas corrected. “It took her personality as its own.”
“Still creepy. That's even worse!”
“Are you sure?” Cassandra asked, her expression pleading. “Could it not be Justinia? Perhaps she went into the Breach when you did--”
“How would she have gotten here?” Arethin asked. 'How would she still be alive? It has been months, Cassandra.”
“I do not presume to know how the Fade works!”
“Whether I am Justinia or not does not matter to you,” the spirit said. “I am here to help.”
“Why?” Solas asked.
“Because you need it.”
“Why us, more than anyone?”
“You know why.” she gestured towards Arethin. “The mark on your hand. You have been given the power to heal the world, re-weave it back together.”
“And you wish to help us,” Arethin said.
Justinia inclined her head.
“How?”
“You have forgotten what happened when the mark was placed upon your hand,” Justinia explained. “The memories are important. The nightmare took them, placed them in its keeping, for it could not destroy them.”
“So you want to help me get them back? How?”
“They are your memories. You will know them. I am merely here to guide you. Without a guide, you will be lost, the nightmare swallowing you.”
“Oh, Guidance, what a lovely attempt you make,” the nightmare demon oozed into life, speaking in their ears. “They will never be free of me. Lavellan's First has lead them into my domain. How can they escape a place where I rule?”
The world grew darker around them, and Justinia—or Guidance—raised her hand. A globe of light appeared, and pushed the darkness away.
“Come,” Justinia said. “We must hurry.”
“Are we really gonna follow her?” Sera demanded.
“Do you see another way?” Arethin asked.
“Can't you—I dunno—dream up somewhere else to go?”
“You are welcome to try,” Solas said. “In fact, I encourage it. However, there is the possibility that the nightmare demon will try to manipulate any attempt we make to change our environment.” when Sera was still not mollified, and both Bull and Cassandra looked worried, he sighed and continued “In a nightmare, what do you do?”
“I dunno,” Sera said. “Wake up?”
“And what do you do before you wake up?”
“Usually I don't realize I'm in a dream,” Bull said. “If I did, I could change it.”
“But since you cannot change it, you go along with the logic it presents, correct?”
“I suppose,” Sera groaned.
“The Fade is a place of dreams,” Solas said. “Remember that. Dreams are both more and less complex than they appear. Tell me—what seems like the most logical choice at this moment?”
“I cannot tell that this Justinia is so different from the one I knew,” Cassandra said. “Even if she is a spirit—perhaps she is like Cole, or the spirits that help to reverse Tranquility, or your friend Wisdom, and she is a good one. She does not feel like the nightmare demon.”
“Nor does she feel like that to me,” Solas agreed.
“I don't see any way else we could go,” Dorian said, staring up at the huge rock walls that surrounded them.
“I can't either,” Bull admitted.
Sera groaned through her teeth and kicked at the ground. “This place is friggen' stupid,” she said.
“Nightmares are supposed to be unsettling, Sera,” Dorian told her.
“Can you think of another path we could take?” Solas asked.
Sera sighed. “No,” she admitted. “I just keep getting' dizzy, lookin' at the sky. Feels like falling.” she gave a full-body shudder. “This place is doin' my bloody head in.”
“That is normal,” Solas said. “It can be overwhelming for those not practiced.”
“So, are we all agreed?” Arethin asked. “We shall follow her?” she pointed to Justinia.
Reluctantly, everyone nodded.
The Justinia-spirit gave a gentle smile, and gestured for them to follow. “You will know your memories when you see them,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Arethin. “The demon will try to keep you from them, so you must be prepared.”
They continued on, through the path. It was carved into the massive bulk of rock that towered overhead. Half-formed pillars and towers and statues were carved into the rock as well, and strange unsettling nightmare fragments scattered the path.
A pool of blood that did not so much as ripple when stepped in—a skeleton with glowing lights in the eyesockets—a table and chair, only the table was far too small for the chair.
A painting with a tortured landscape that shifted when looked at.
Spiders.
Maggots.
Black emptiness. Blood dripping from the walls. Great towers built of bone and glass. Howling faces carved into the rock, and the rock itself didn't smell like rock, it smelled like ash, like burning flesh, like--
Solas touched Arethin's arm. She jumped, and turned to face him.
“What?” she demanded.
He indicated her hand, and she realized she was clenching her fist so tightly, she'd started to cut into her palm.
“Oh,” she muttered.
“Be calm,” he told her. “You are in more danger than most.”
“Thank you for that.”
“It is simply the truth.”
"Here,” Justinia stopped them in a small clearing. At the center of the clearing was a hovering white light.
“What's that?” Sera asked.
“Mine,” Arethin said, blinking as she realized it was true. Arethin reached out, and touched the wisp of light.
She walked through the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the walls looming over her. She'd never been inside a building so large before, not one that was above ground. She had gotten here ahead of everyone else, and the Temple was yet empty.
She heard some sound coming from a room up ahead, and felt the Veil twist about her. She ran to a door, and pushed it open.
Inside was—inside was--
With a gasp, the memory cut off, and Arethin was back in the present again.
“What was that?” Cassandra asked, putting a hand on her arm. “Are you alright?”
Arethin nodded still trying to catch her breath. “I was—walking into the Temple,” she said. “The temple of Sacred Ashes. Before the explosion, after everyone had cleared out—do you remember?”
Cassandra nodded. “Justinia wished for Leliana and I to leave her, to greet the representatives further down the mountain,” she ducked her head. “We had only been gone for a few minutes when the temple exploded.”
“Where are the rest?” Arethin asked, looking round at Justinia.
“Not here. We must continue on,” Justinia said. “The demon will have made this as difficult as it could.”
“And why not?” the nightmare demon rumbled overhead. “You, silly little girl, wish to take back the memories which I so generously lifted from your shoulders. I could make you forget more if you wished. Take back the memories of that life you so despise.”
Arethin reached out and took Cassandra's hand, grasping it very tightly.
“Let's keep goin',” Sera said. “Don't wanna listen to this stupid arse any more than I have to.”
“On that, we're in agreement,” Arethin said. They continued on, and Justinia lead them into the mouth of the skull of an enormous dead monster. The skull was so large that each massive tooth was longer than Bull was tall, and when they came out the other end, the path lead out into an enormous field of bones, presumably the monster's skeleton. It could not be avoided, the path not veering one way or the other.
“I wonder what this looked like, when it was alive?” Dorian murmured, staring at the huge bones.
“Might be best not to think about that kinda thing in here,” Iron Bull advised.
“Don't you like dragons?”
“This isn't a dragon, and I don't really want to be inside one anyway.”
In the center of the skeleton, right under its breastbone, they found another light, this one glowing blue. Arethin reached out to grasp it in her hand.
She opened the door. She smelled burning books and magic, and saw a shape like a man--
And the Divine, suspended in the air--
“What is this?”
Arethin backed away, staring. The room was crowded with people, some in Templar armor, some in Warden, none of them paying attention to anything but the Divine.
The man turned to her, and his face was a horror, mangled and bursting with red shards.
“Slay the elf,” he commanded, then turned away, ignoring her.
A blade was at her throat, and she looked into the eyes of--
A Warden--
She snapped out of the memory with a gasp.
“What did you see?” Cassandra asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“The Wardens,” Arethin breathed. “He got the Wardens to help—they were already under his control.”
Everyone glanced at each other, worried.
“Are you sure?” Cassandra asked. “We had not heard--”
Arethin nodded. “It was them. I suppose he must have picked up a few at first, then more. There were Templars there, too.”
“How could he have gotten there without us realizing?” Cassandra asked, biting her lip.
“The bastard's huge, how could you not have spotted him?” Sera demanded.
“Is it possible he used an eluvian?” Dorian asked.
“No, we would have noticed that,” Arethin said. “Could he have gone through the Fade?” she asked Solas.
“That would have been very noticeable,” Solas said.
“Maybe there was a secret way into the Temple,” Arethin said. “It was enormous. How old was it?”
“We believe it dates back to Andraste's death,” Cassandra said. “If Corypheus had both Templar and Warden assistance, they could have told him of some way we didn't know about...” she sighed and shook her head.
“Come,” Guidance said. “We must keep moving. You have some of your memories, but not all of them.”
“Why hasn't the nightmare demon stopped us yet?” Arethin asked as Guidance lead them out of the monster skeleton.
“Perhaps I already have,” the demon spoke again. “Perhaps you are dreaming. This is the Fade, is it not?”
“It may be waiting to attack us later,” Solas said. “Or it has less control over us here, because we are in a physical shape.”
“That's a good point,” Dorian said. “Spirits in the physical world have less control over it then they do the Fade—it stands to reason that a physical person in the Fade would be harder to control.”
“Very astute, Dorian,” the demon rumbled. “I wonder, were you this clever when Alexius caught you in his trap? When the day went back over and over and over again. When Vivienne was run through by a blade, did you think of a way out of it? How about when you burned?”
Dorian's mouth pressed into a hard line.
“It can be ever so hard to forget the smell of your own flesh burning, can't it?” there was an oily grin in the demon's voice, and a flicker of fire caught Arethin's eye, but when she looked there was nothing there. “There was a place beyond pain—have you ever been afraid of the absence of pain? You hadn't before.”
“Is there no possible way to speed this up?” Dorian asked. “I don't especially enjoy dealing with such tiresome company.”
“What's it talkin' about?” Sera asked him curiously.
“Nothing I particularly wish to remember.”
“But what?”
“Later, Sera,” Dorian snapped, and Sera scowled, taken aback.
They began to be surrounded by fog, so thick that it became impossible to see.
“Be careful,” Guidance said. “The nightmare seeks to make you lost.”
“Everyone, hold on to the person in front of you so you don't lose them,” Arethin instructed. Cassandra's hand was very tight on hers, and Solas immediately took Bull's arm.
The fog began to clear, and from the mist a forest of enormous trees began to rise up around them. It was such a change from the rocky cliffs that it was startling, and Arethin looked closer at one of them.
“These are burial trees,” Arethin breathed, staring up at them. The trunks were so tall and the leaves so large and branches outspread so wide that they blotted out the view of the sky overhead. Each tree was a different kind. Here was an oak, here a massive pine, here a weeping willow whose leaves trailed on the ground.
“Trees?” Cassandra looked at her. “I see headstones—huge stone slabs, like there were back in the Necropolis...”
“It's weird,” Bull said, reaching out to try and touch one of the trees, but pulling back at the last minute. “They keep...changing. Turns from those big ugly things the 'Vints have in their mausoleums, then there's the tombstones they have in graveyards here...”
“Obelisks,” Dorian corrected absently. “That's what we have in Tevinter. Those are the only things I can see. Black marble.”
“The Fade will react to your ideas,” Solas reminded them. “You will all see different things.”
“What are you seeing?” Bull asked.
“Sarcophagi,” Solas said. His gaze was not focused upwards, the way Arethin's and Dorian's were, but down, as if what he saw was lower to the ground. “The resting places of the dead and dreaming.”
“They have words on 'em,” Sera said. “Hey—this one's got Varric's name on it!”
They all looked, and sure enough, it did, Varric Tethras in scrawling, spidery script. The words were carved deeply into the wood of the tree that Arethin saw, the marks weeping sap that was as dark as blood.
The words refused to consolidate themselves into something that could be easily read, but one phrase was clear—becoming my parents was scratched deep into the wood, oozing red sap.
“Why is it talkin' about all this?” Sera demanded. “What does it mean?”
“Fears,” Solas said. “It lists Varric's fears. We cannot read it clearly because he is not here. Look--” he went to another one. “This one has Vivienne's name. This one...” he stopped.
“What is it?” Arethin glanced at the tree Solas was focused on. She took a breath. “Sera?” she said.
“What?”
“This one has your name.”
Sera hurried to her side, and sure enough, there it was. Upon the massive apple tree (with fruit that was almost black, so rotted on the branch it was) was carved Sera's name, and as they watched, more fears were known. These words were much clearer than Varric's tree, or Vivienne's, and became even more clear as they focused on it.
I reached back and there were no more arrows--
I am not who I am.
Something screamed overhead--
Her eyes are green and cold and she says she says--
I smell fire, I smell something burning—the whole city is aflame—all of it all of it--
The nothing.
Those last two words were carved over the rest of the others, and stayed still while the other fears changed and shifted.
“Why is it 'the nothing?'” Dorian asked. “That would make it a proper noun, wouldn't it?”
“Shut up!” Sera snapped. “Stop lookin' at it!”
“What do the other ones say?” Bull began to look around. “Oh—this one is mine. That's real nice.”
Bull's enormous oak tree was scarred and huge, and was covered in words, just as Sera's was.
I woke up and all I could hear was screaming.
Thick black smoke, smells like burned pork, I know what it is.
The blood drips down, I can't see, can't see--
The mind is like a book, don't you know--
The pages fell down, rearranged, words changed and paper fluttering like butterfly wings...
Madness. The word was etched deeply into the surface, the letters wobbly as if carved by an unsteady hand.
Solas reached out and put his hand on Bull's forearm.
“This one is mine,” Dorian drew their attention to another tree, an alder with Dorian's own name on it.
If you trust does it happen if you trust will it happen--
A body dripping with blood, the chest torn open, I will never forget the way it smelled, copper and hot metal...
I am drowning in mud there is no light and there has been no light--
The sword went through her chest and it's dripping blood and she tries to speak--
I can smell it like something sweet, I know that smell, I know it, it's me, it's me, it's sweet--
Temptation.
“Temptation? Well, that is patent nonsense,” Dorian said, with confidence, but his bronze skin was a bit paler than usual. “These bloody obelisks are all lying, clearly. That one doesn't make any sense.”
“We should move on,” Solas said. “This is likely a way for the demon to entrap us and slow us down.”
“That one has your name on it,” Dorian said, and in spite of themselves, the others all turned to look. Solas' tree was the huge weeping willow, the branches so long and heavy they trailed on the ground. The leaves, however, were parted enough to show the trunk and the words thereupon.
Andruil and her burning yellow eyes—she opens her mouth and she says and she says--
Anaris and the black sky and Andruil and the open outstretched arms of the tree, a tree grown in blood--
A war amongst gods cracks like thunder—the world is shaking and I am too small--
I am falling—I am falling—I can taste blood and the battle will not end and I am drowning...
Dying alone. Like with the others, the strange disconnected thoughts were written over by one overriding phrase.
Iron Bull didn't say anything, but wrapped his arm around Solas' shoulders.
“Are you afraid of Andruil?” Arethin asked, touching her cheek self-consciously, where the vallaslin of Andruil were tattooed.
“No,” Solas said. “But I suspect I was, once.” he saw her touching her cheek and added “She has nothing to do with you.”
Cassandra's tree, a conifer, was right next to Solas', impossible to miss.
There is no Maker there is no Maker there is--
All my work is nothing, the world has cracked in two and I was wrong, I was wrong, I cannot stop, I was wrong--
Arethin with blood running down her chin, the mark has eaten her, glassy eyes staring up at a sky heavy with the Breach, dead, dead, dead--
Helplessness. The word was a black slash across the tree's trunk, oozing sap, and Cassandra bit her lip.
The last tree was Arethin's. It was huge, a massive holly, reaching towards the hazy sky overhead, branches outspreading.
What if I have misjudged—what if I am wrong--
If someone is let in they will be hurt--
It does not work why can't it work I look down at her and it's nothing but it won't work—she says she understands and there are sad jewel eyes and it will not work...
The blood is dripping there is too much there is too much--
Monster, monster, monster--
It will happen again.
Arethin stared at the words. They carved themselves into her brain, just as they were carved onto the tree.
Cassandra squeezed her hand.
“We should go,” Arethin said. “We should really...go.”
“This way,” Guidance instructed, and lead them out of the graveyard. Sera shuddered and looked over her shoulder, but the forest was soon obscured from view. The fog grew thin again, and they were back on the rocky path.
“This place is the worst.” Sera proclaimed.
“I quite agree,” Dorian said.
The path lead down to an ocean shore, where the sand was embedded with tiny fossils. The waves lapped against the beach, and when one looked out to the ocean, it seemed to never end. The water had a strange texture, oily and black, and smelled like something rotting.
“Don't touch the water,” Guidance advised.
“You might drown,” the demon murmured in their ears. “You're afraid of drowning, Cassandra. All that water and nothing to hang on to.”
“Quiet,” Cassandra snapped.
“And Sera...so much water is rather like...well, rather like a great deal of empty space, isn't it?” the voice sounded like a smile with curling teeth. “Perhaps madness is something like drowning, isn't it, Iron Bull?”
“I think we should move back a little bit,” Arethin said, and they all collectively edged away from the water.
“There,” Guidance pointed, and Arethin saw another wisp.
“Are there any more of these?” she asked Guidance.
“Would you know if there were?” the demon murmured.
Arethin squared her shoulders, and reached for the wisp.
The sword was at Arethin's throat, but the Warden's nose began to bleed and her hand shook on her weapon.
The man narrowed his eyes. “Enough,” he said, and there was a ripple in the Veil, and the world went absolutely white.
Something had gone wrong, and Arethin was shoved to the ground by some great force. Something touched her hand—the orb had fallen from Corypheus' grasp, and rolled over to her. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed it.
Pain lanced up her arm, and Corypheus hissed in outrage. The world shook again, and she felt the ground drop out from under her.
Someone grabbed her shoulders. “Run!” that was the Divine's voice in her ear. “Warn them!”
She couldn't see anything, everything was too blindingly bright, a mass of chaotic colors and sound. She dropped the orb, her hand screaming with pain, and staggered forward, the sound of roaring in her ears.
“That way!”
Something pointed her to a tear in space, through which she could see a gray-blue sky. She staggered towards it, hearing something skitter behind her.
“I don't think so,” a terrible voice boomed in her head, and something grabbed her ankles. She threw up a hasty wall of fire, cutting the something off, and continued on, her legs shaking. The light continued to grow and she could hear fighting, screaming, but nothing was clear.
A shape appeared before her, like a massive insect, and she thrust out her hand again—the one that hurt—the colors grew to a painful brilliance, and when it died, her path was clear. She ran forward as fast as she was able, to the hole in the sky, and stumbled out, onto more solid ground.
Arethin shook her head as she came back to herself.
“Corypheus made a mistake,” she said. “The Wardens—I don't think he could control them and the Templars and use the orb at the same time.”
“The orb was made for elvhen hands,” Solas said. “It is quite possible that it rejected him, as eluvians reject human travelers.”
“What else did you see?” Cassandra asked.
“Not a great deal,” Arethin said, her lips pursed. “It was...confusing. A lot of colors and light, and some voices, but nothing clear.”
“Come,” Guidance said. “The exit is not far. With your memories, you are better able to understand what happened.”
They moved on.
The rift was up an enormous staircase, and the rock was starting to crawl with moss and strange vines. The rock was covered with carvings and illustration, but the finer details were lost, and scenes could not be distinguished.
The Veil started to feel thin and torn, like it did around most other rifts. They were getting close. At last, they came to the top of the stairs, where the rift was, but they could not reach it just yet.
A colossal spider lurked before the rift, so large that it could not have sat in Skyhold's courtyard without bumping the walls.
“I suppose it goes without saying that that is the demon,” Dorian murmured, his eyes very large.
“Astute as ever, Dorian,” the Demon said, and the spider's pincers clicked and whirred in time with its speech. “Why leave? There really is no reason to. You won't win.”
Arethin moved forward, her staff out, but Guidance put a hand on her shoulder.
“You cannot fight it here and still leave,” she said. “Allow me.”
Guidance reached out, her light blazing.
“Go,” she said.
“Can you fight that thing?” Arethin asked, her brow knitted in worry.
“I am Guidance. I remove all that obstructs the path.”
The demon began to laugh, and Guidance's shape was consumed in light as she went towards it. The demon engulfed her, and its shape vanished, to dissolve into a mass of darkness. The darkness and the light combated each other, flashing together like a night sky filled with lightning.
The group, with some reluctance, tried to move towards the rift, but here they were blocked yet again by another thing.
This demon was huge, roughly the shape of a person, with a head and a body and arms. That was where the similarities ended.
Its head was strange, larger than it should have been, with fleshy growths like hair growing out of its skull. It had dozens of tiny eyes, like a bug, and when it grinned, its teeth were long and needle sharp.
“I am not so easy to outwit,” it said, and its voice was that of the demons'. “Do you wish to leave this place? Then you must do so through me.”
The light overhead cracked like lightning, and a black fluid began to drip from the demon's mouth.
“Nightmares end when you wake up,” Arethin said. “And we are about to. You have no power over us.”
“No?”
Arethin was covered in blood, and she recoiled, trying to scrub it off her hands, but she couldn't, it spread, and there was more and more--
She was standing in a pool of blood, it spread out from her feet, she could smell it, blood dripping everywhere--
It will happen again, again, again, again--
She heard a scream, but couldn't focus, not with so much blood--
Again, again, again--
Her head jerked up, and she met the eyes of the nightmare demon.
Again, again, again--
It wasn't real. It was the demon. She put one foot forward—almost slipped and fell in the blood—and then another.
She looked over to see her companions.
Sera covered her face, murmuring to herself over and over again. Dorian's hands were in his hair, his eyes wide and fever-bright, and his lips mouthing words to the Chant. Bull stared down at his hands, shaking. Solas' head was in his hands, and he stood very still. Cassandra's chest heaved and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.
She could only guess what they were all seeing.
“Stop it,” she told the demon, her voice trembling. “Leave them alone!”
“And therein is your fear,” the demon smirked. “It's happening again, and it's your fault.”
“No it isn't!” she choked on her words, blood dribbling from her lips. “It's yours! You're doing it!”
“But of course. You did not kill your Elladen. You merely failed to save him, did you not?”
She cast about, looking at her companions. She grabbed Cassandra's arms.
“Cassandra?” she shook the other woman. “Can you hear me?”
Cassandra shook her head.
“Stop it,” she said. “Leave me alone, demon—do not mimic her voice!”
“It's not the demon!” Arethin pleaded. “It's me!”
Overhead, the sky churned and boiled with the shadows and the light. Bull looked up, and Arethin realized he must still be able to see the things around them, even if the others couldn't. She went to him.
“Bull--”
“Don't,” he put a hand out. “They said it would happen. I'm Tal-vashoth. It would always happen.”
“No it wouldn't!” blood poured from her hands, and she could taste it in her mouth. “Bull, you need to help me!”
“I'll hurt you.”
“Hurt that thing!” she pointed at the demon. “If you want to hurt something, hurt it!”
He shook his head and she moaned, clenching her hands and feeling the blood well up. Though he could see her, evidently that wouldn't be enough to break from the spell.
She grabbed Solas' hands.
“Can you hear me?” she demanded. “Can you wake up?”
He said nothing, his eyes not focusing on her. She slapped him, but it didn't help. Cursing, she looked around—none of her other companions seemed to be paying any attention to their surroundings.
“Can any of you hear me?” she shouted.
“Stop it!” Cassandra exclaimed, covering her ears.
“Come on,” she urged. “Sera—Sera,” she went over to Sera, who continued to mumble to herself. “Sera, you hate the Fade. Come on, wake up!” when Sera didn't respond, she turned to Dorian. “Come on—you can't let something like a—a nightmare demon get to you, right?”
Nothing.
“Isn't this rather familiar, Mediator?” the demon purred in her ear. “It's familiar for them, too.”
“Stop it,” she hissed, bringing her hands to her ears.
“Cassandra—drowning and lost,” the demon laughed. “Everything in her life has been uprooted and destroyed. Even her beloved Arethin is someone she never would have cared about before now.”
“Not true,” Cassandra mumbled, voice choked. “Wrong. It's wrong.”
“Cassandra--” Arethin grabbed her hands, but Cassandra still paid her no attention. The demon continued.
“Sera, stranded in empty nothing.”
Sera whimpered as if she could hear the demon, and Arethin looked round to see if she might have shaken the spell, but her eyes were unfocused and darting.
“She's always running, you see, running from everything before it can get to her. An arrow, loosed. She tells people she's not what they want before they can tell her. But that's so lonely,” the demon purred. “So full of nothing.”
The demon moved, put one of its long, taloned hands on Iron Bull's shoulder.
“The Iron Bull, lost in a maze of his own. He thinks in loops, you see, trying to ensure he can stop madness seeping in, as if he can't be trusted with his own mind.” the demon snickered.
Bull looked at the demon, his eye huge, but said nothing.
“He doesn't trust the world he sees.” the demon shook its head and moved away, to circle Dorian.
“Dorian—he's a story all his own, drenched in the filth and decay of a terrible empire. It would be so easy to just...let go.”
Dorian continued to mumble the Chant, voice growing louder, and the demon seemed only to take amusement from this.
“And if that wasn't enough...even fire cannot cleanse you, can it?” the demon leaned to whisper in Dorian's ear. “For you have walked through fire, and came out not one bit purer.”
It moved away from Dorian, and approached Solas.
“And Solas...his fears are of loneliness, blood and fields of snow, an endlessness with nothing in it but him.” the demon grinned. “Clever, clever Fen'harel. But not clever enough.” finally, it moved back from her companions, and towards her again.
“And you,” it said at last. “What a pleasure you've been. First your memories—steeped in blood and fear, and now...I wonder...I can feel the fears of others through you,” the demon reached over, long claw just brushing her chin. “Ah, yes.” that grin exposed needle-sharp teeth. “I see everything through you. I wonder—how much fear I could take from the world...if you just let me inside?”
“No,” she gasped. “Never.”
“Perhaps not you, then,” the demon turned away from her. “Perhaps one of the others...”
She shook her head.
“How long would it take them to promise me anything, to make the horror stop?” it reached over and took Dorian's chin in it's hand. Dorian closed his eyes.
“Enough. Wake up.” someone put their hand on her shoulder, and Guidance's white light burned the fear from her mind.
The demon was thrown back, hot white light forcing it away, and the sky overhead crackled with more light than darkness now.
Her companions blinked and shook themselves, looking around.
“What's going on?” Sera asked. “Where—where--”
“Who cares about where, get your arrows in that thing!” Arethin demanded, pointing at the demon.
Sera shook her head. “Right. Arrows. Yeah.”
“Arethin!” Cassandra grasped her arm. “You are—you are alright?”
“Well, not while that thing is still around!”
They attacked the demon. Arethin, Solas and Dorian stayed back and flung spells at it, white Cassandra and Bull charged forward.
Sera sunk several arrows into the thing's head, but it was the spells that really did the damage.
Cassandra and Bull were both shoved back, but a stray firespell by Dorian distracted the beast enough to let them get close again and hack at the thing.
Guidance's light continued to burn, gradually forcing the demon back. At last, they were almost at the threshold of the rift.
“Run,” Guidance hissed. “I will make it stay here.”
“But--”
“Run!”
She pointed to the rift, and Arethin nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
“Do not thank me until you have run the path.”
“There—run!” Arethin said, and they ran for the portal.
Snakes and spiders appeared at their heels, and blood drenched Arethin's hands again. Sera stumbled and Dorian grabbed her arm.
Finally, they reached the rift and tumbled through it, falling out into the courtyard on the other side.