Chapter Text
The chill of the early evening air has you shivering as you step out into the courtyard. The sun has only just begun to dip below the horizon but there’s light enough to see by. You had only meant to stay a few hours but once you had helped with the cleanup, had your daggers and mount checked over and had slipped into the warmth of a bath, you knew you would be staying a little longer than you intended to. You stand with your hands on your hips as you raise your face to meet the setting sun and you smile despite everything before a loud whistle breaks you from your reverie and your eyes snap open as you turn to glare at Alistair who stands by the stable, Suledin’s reins in hand.
“Do you have everything?” he asks as you approach and he holds out his hand, offering the reins which you take gladly.
“I barely arrived with anything,” you reply with a chuckle, “But yes.”
“Fantastic. I’ve loaded up your Halla’s pack with enough supplies to last you the journey,” he says as the pair of you makes your way towards the portcullis, “If you’re resourceful it should last the entire trip without stops.”
“I’ll blaze my way across the plains, you just watch,” you tell him, “All fire and fury.” You miss your love so much that the ache threatens to overwhelm you.
“Oh I don’t doubt it,” he snorts, “Don’t forget that I’ve seen you in action dear friend. With your silver tongue, honeyed words and penchant to get into trouble.”
“Hey!” you reply as you smack him in the arm, eliciting a chuckle from the King, “I’ll have you know that it’s the trouble that finds me!”
“Oh sure, sure,” he drawls as you pass a group of soldiers heading back towards the Keep, “Remind me. Whose fault was it that we were almost kicked out of Denerim during the Blight because a certain someone tried to scale the walls of the Alienage?”
“To be fair!” you raise your voice as Alistair laughs, “They were trying to keep me out of my home and I would have made it all the way over if that guard hadn’t decided to actually do his job.”
“Stil,l Arianna,” Alistair’s laugh tapers off, “Just be careful out there okay?” you watch his features soften as you both come to a stop beneath the iron gates, “The word has changed in the years you left it.” You know. You feel it more than anything. The air has changed, the people, the earth. Him. It’s hard for you to reconcile that this man in front of you, this man with grey hairs and the signs of wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes is the same young Warden you journeyed with all those years ago. You find yourself frowning and unable to stop yourself you reach up towards his face, cupping his jaw with a gloved hand. His frown matches your own and your face begins to warm as your eyes blur.
“Al…” you trail off with a tilt of your head, “Creators… I wish I had been here,” you mumble, “10 years of aging but to me you’re still that man. Slightly different, a bit older. But that smile…” As you feel the corners of your own lips lift, his mouth widens into a grin as his eyes shine with unspent tears, “That damn smile is still the same.”
“I’ll forget you called me old there,” he says and you laugh, standing on the tips of your boots as he bends his head down and you place a kiss to his forehead before stepping away and looking him over. You want to commit him to your memory, sear the image of your friend into your brain because you still can’t believe in all those years you never once thought to send a letter. Your smile feels sad, you feel sad, and Alistair must notice for his eyes soften and he places a hand on your shoulder, “You’re here now Ari,” he tells you and when you lift your hand to squeeze his arm your smile feels a might stronger, “That’s what matters.”
“I know I just-“ with an almighty huff, Suledin’s irritation breaks you from your morose feelings and you startle with a shake of your head, “I think that’s my cue to leave,” you laugh, turning to your mount and placing a hand to her neck.
“I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting either,” Alistair chuckles as you place your foot into the stirrup and swing up onto Suledin’s back. You know he means the beast beneath you but for a moment your mind conjures up the image of a pale slender face framed by fiery orange hair and your hands tighten on the reins. You nudge Suledin into turning and as Alistair steps to your side you watch as he digs into a pocket and withdraws a ring, “Here,” he says, lifting him arm and offering the piece of jewelry to you. You take it from his outstretched hand and turn it over to see the Theirin insignia engraved into its polished surface. When you look up at him with a frown he chuckles, “If you get into a spot of trouble just flash that ring and tell the sorry Blighters you’re on a mission from the King.”
“While I’m not opposed to the lie,” you reply, “What would make anyone believe my truth over them thinking I stole this?” you raise a brow as you pocket the ring.
“Oh I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he grins up at you and you shake your head with a smile.
“Be well Al. I promise I won’t disappear this time,” you say to your friend as you set your eyes forwards.
“I know you won’t,” he replies with a wistful tone to his words, “Travel safe my friend.”
And with those parting words your spur Suledin forwards, thundering on into the day.
+++++
You ride as fast as you can while still keeping Suledin’s comfort in mind. You traverse trails and paths you recall from your time during the Blight but as with your friend everything has changed. There are less people on the highway than you remember there being and those that you do pass give you a wide birth, which, at the pace you fly down the stone road, you’re not surprised. Yet you keep the warning Alistair had given you at the forefront of your mind. The distrust of magic wielders is at an all-time high and you are determined to see your love again. No matter the cost.
+++++
You stop briefly in Lothering a week into your journey. The first village you’ve seen thus far and as you walk Suledin down the stone slope of the highway and onto the flats you almost don’t recognize the small hamlet, so different it is from what you remember. You stop still as people pass you by some speeding past and avoiding your eye while most stop and stare but you barely notice their inquisitive natures as you rack your brain trying to remember visages of the past now lost to you.
10 years since you were here last. This was the first place you stopped after the massacre at Ostagar and the first place you met Leliana and yet you don’t recognize it. Chantry, gone. Windmill, gone. Houses and business moved and changed and there’s a familiar sickly sweet smell to the air that has you wrinkling your nose. Blight. Faint, so faint that the slightest stirring of the wind has the scent hidden from your nose but you know the smell far too well for it to be hidden by the whims of the air. And then the memory strikes you and remember. Lothering having been overrun mere days after your original departure, its people slaughtered, ground torn and tainted, buildings ransacked and burnt. A town decimated but against all odds here once more. And it makes you smile as you continue onwards through the village.
There’s hope for everything.
+++++
A few days out from Haven, the village of Redcliffe graces your horizon. You hear the thrum of people before you even enter the gates, voices a cacophony of sound that eclipses your own thoughts. This is last stop you’ll need to make before Haven and you should find somewhere to stay the night. Somewhere where you can bathe and sleep soundly before reuniting with your love. You dismount Suledin a few paces into the village and lead her by her reins as you continue on foot. You remember the tavern being around here somewhere but your time away has your thoughts muddled and your steps uncertain.
“Are you alright Miss?” a voice speaks up and you’re snapped out of your daze as the figure of a young elven teen stops before you.
“I seem to be a tad lost,” you tell him as you look around at the landscape changed by time, “I’m looking for the tavern. But it’s been years since I was last here and nothing quite seems as I remember.” Not that you seem to be able to remember much at all, a troubling notion that does not escape your notice.
“That’s alright Miss!” the young elf grins, “There’s been a lot of shit happenin’ here recently, so even if you was familiar with the village you’d probably be confused.”
“Oh?” you asked with raised brow and a slight tilt of your head, “Something other than the mages leaving to join the Inquisition?” His eyes go wide and you watch his mouth drop open ever so slightly.
“So that’s where they went…,” he breathes and you smirk, “I was wonderin’ where they got off to but nobody knew for sure.” His gaze turns sharp and you shiver as he looks you up and down, “How do you know?” he asks you with his gaze narrows and ears flickering. You simply smile as you tap the side of your nose.
“I’m on a special mission from the King,” you tell him and he snorts a laugh that has you joining in, “Now. The Tavern?” you ask and he beckons you to follow him as his laughter joins the collection of voices that fill the world around you. Suledin huffs and shifts on the spot before you whisper a quiet word of encouragement to her and follow the boy. Your daggers are sheathed and your powers are dormant, yet people still stare as you walk by. You don’t blame them, you don’t mind the stares either. Let them see. Let them see your colours, your ears, your might.
“You see that explosion a couple weeks back?” you stare at the shaggy black hair that falls messily about the boys shoulder as you both walk, “The one in the sky? From the Breach?”
“I did,” you reply and you lift your head to the sky as you eye the scar of green upon the heavens.
“Good thing the Inquisition did,” he says and you chuckle at the conviction of his tone , “Don’t listen to what anyone else says about recruitin’ the mages being a bad idea. They helped seal it after all. Shame about what happened to Haven though.” You stop in your tracks and a feeling of dread slowly trickles its way down your spine.
“What?” You speak the word so quietly that your guide stops and turns towards you, “What happened to Haven?” you ask, louder this time. Enough so to draw the eyes of those passing by.
“It was buried beneath the snow Miss,” he tells you with a frown, “You didn’t know?” You shake your head. How could you?
“The people. The Inquisition. My-“ Leliana. Your guide shrugs.
“I ‘eard they survived. I’ve ‘eard people saying they seen people headin’ north along the mountain pass. Why are you so interested in ‘em? You lookin’ to join?” he asks and you shake your head.
“I-“ You need to go, “I need to go.” You yank on Suledin’s reins, much to her chagrin, and turn her around before clambering up onto her back, “Thanks kid,” you tell the teen before delving into your coin purse and flicking him a gold piece, “Don’t go spending it all at once.” You grab the reins, take a breath, and with a soft word then a shout, you’re off once again.
+++++
Buried under the snow was an understatement.
You see a few hints here and there a section of stone bridge, the remains of a dock over ice but it’s like Haven never existed at all. Like it was swallowed up and pulled into the earth by some angry god. Your boots crunch over the freshly fallen snow as you lead Suledin through a world of white and it’s so quiet here that you feel on edge even though you’re sure you’re alone. There’s just… something that’s not right and you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The fog of your breath hangs in the air before your face, cool and white and the new intake of air stings your lips and burns in your lungs and you pull your hood further over your head. You’ve experienced cold before but this is new. Harsher. What happened here? Something must have. An avalanche this size doesn’t just happen without something catastrophic to set it in motion. You stop in your tracks and turn to face the mountain range towering over the once sprawling village and as the sun starts to set, through the dusk you see parts of the highland glowing a sickening red.
Like those crystals you had seen poking through the snow the closer you drew to your destination. You’re a mage. You’ve been to the Deep Roads. You know what lyrium crystals look like. But these blood-red gems are not that. Not quite. For one thing, they sings.
A hauntingly sweet tune.
You turn your face from the mountain to the ruins all around you and once again as it was with Lothering you can smell Blight upon the air so you close your eyes and take a breath and just listen.
Silence at first. The sound of Suledin breathing at your side and the subtle crunching of snow as you shift in place. Think. You need a place to start where north is an option too vague and you will not be lost wondering in the tundra. You have the knowledge that some of the people here had survived but how would they have escaped what was so obviously a battle of such great magnitude that sinking an entire village in snow was the option chosen? You ears flicker when the sound of ice creaking reaches you and you frown. Think. You’ve seen no bodies. No graves. No buildings. Your love had to have escaped. You don’t dare to think of the alternative. Dead and stiff frozen beneath the snow-
You shake away thoughts unwanted and open your eyes with a strangled gasp and stiff fingers. Your chest feels tight and your shoulder is throbbing ang you clench your teeth to keep from crying out in pain as an agony unlike any other shoots through your arm. You almost collapse as your legs shake and your knees buckle but then there’s a large furred head pressed up against your side and you hook your arms over Suledin’s neck as she lifts her neck and helps you back to your feet.
“Thank you,” you whisper to your companion with tears in your eyes before you pat her neck and press your forehead to her own.
You’re so tired. Of traveling and getting nowhere. Of hurting and not healing. But you’re so close. You’re so close. You can feel it. Just… how did they flee?
You take a moment to gather yourself and you allow your thoughts to run back to then last time you were here all those years ago. Rescuing Genitivi, thwarting a dragon cult, finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes and you remember Leliana speaking to you once years later. Telling you about the hidden passages in the Chantry. Passages she only knew through her travels as a lay sister.
That’s it! The tunnels!
Hope.
You allow yourself to feel hopeful because you know that if Leliana was indeed with those that fled this village, then she will be alive. She knows these mountains. She’s strong. Stronger than you in many regards although you know she would claim otherwise but now you have a direction and you know you can do this. You can’t rest now, weary as you feel. There’s a tiredness in your bones that hasn’t let up since you parted from the Dalish but that matters little now and you push the exhaustion from your mind as you stand strong on your feet. You’ve hardly rested your entire life.
So why start now?
The snow is thick upon the ground as you swing up onto Suledin’s back and you watch her sink further into the white with your added weight upon her but she doesn’t seem to mind. Instead she cranes her neck to the side and turns her head to regard with intelligent brown eyes.
“It’s alright girl,” you smile at her, “We’ll be home soon.” Home. Oh how you miss her. You grab the reins and spur your mount forwards.
/////
You thunder through the night and the black would be all the much darker if it weren’t for the spots of red light beneath the snow, guiding you onwards towards a fate yet to be decided. You hadn’t noticed during sundown too distracted by the mountains and the ruins as you were with your brain fogged by memories clawed back from the past. But as you ride through the night with nothing but the open plain before you you can’t help but look closer at the red glow beneath sturdy hooves that seeps into the surrounding snow and illuminates the origin point of such crimson light. You see the shadowed forms of what once men were. Soldiers perhaps? Every body bent and broken and jagged, twisted in ways no one could survive. Only living on through the light that seems to whisper to you from beneath the cold. You grit your teeth as you push on.
Now that your mind has decided to cooperate you recall the mountain passages that lead onwards from the great temple and through to the other side of the mountain. A faster path than taking the long way around and you’re so close now that you’re willing to endure any dangers that may present themselves the closer you draw towards the ruins. You’re not there yet but you know the way there like the back of your hand. Go through the pass ahead and you’ll be there and even this far away from it you can feel the magic humming through the snow and the air all around you. The tune of its song is sick and sour and it makes your skin crawl. You take a deep breath and steady your heart. You shouldn’t have to get too close. All you need is a cave or a crevice, even just a crack upon the rockface. Just something to signal a way through. You’ll blast the rock apart if you so have to.
You can see it now just up ahead. The remains of the Temple. The jagged rocks that jut up from within it have you thinking of the time you hurled a fireball onto sand and how the grains had melted into shards of clear glass that had sat tall and sharp and wicked. Nothing quite like the sight before you however and through the half-dark the red glow that emanates from within the devastated structure shines with a hue too much like blood for you to be comfortable. You feel Suledin slowing beneath you until she stops as soon as her hoofs meet fractured stone. And you can’t find it in yourself to go any further.
The sky above you is scarred. The Breach is sealed yet its existence has marked the heavens. The green tear sits so high above the clouds that you only know of its existence from the green glow that filters through the darkness.
You were never a believer in the Chantry. Not back then and certainly not now but even so to see this once great cathedral reduced to rubble and ruin has your breath stoppering in your throat and your hands tightening on the reins. Flashes of memory play before your blurred vision. Of an empty structure carrying echoed voices and footsteps that bounced off bare stone. You remember walls broken and caverns traversed. You remember dragon blood washing the stones beneath your feet and soaking into the leather of your boots. You remember a visage of Shianni and walking bare through a wall of fire.
You remember in almost perfect clarity the Urn of Andraste.
And now it’s gone. All of it.
The details of your past become so hard to recall when the site of such grandiose has been razed.
The warmth is sapped from the air as the sun finally sets and you feel the shadows, deep and bone-chilling settle over you and even wrapped up as you are you can’t help but shiver. You feel eyes on your back and whispers in the dark and a song on the wind and you squeeze your eyes shut as you sit frozen atop your mount. You take a deep gulping breath, night air seizing your lungs and when your eyes fly open it’s only thanks to your natural-born eyesight that you spy, through the dark, the jagged mouth to a cave. Pain shoots through you making your arm twitch but you yank the reins away from the ruins before you can stop yourself and urge Suledin towards your exit.
/////
You think you’re being followed.
It started in the tunnels not long after you decided to proceed on foot. Suledin’s reins had been wrapped around one hand while the other held a lit torch aloft and as the night air followed you in the darkness before you had called to you, drawing you deeper into the mountain. At first you had put the whispers off to your own mind playing tricks but when you had exited the passageway and found yourself in a cavern you had come to a brief stop. Only for the sound of footsteps not your own to continue for a few split seconds before the darkness swallowed them whole. You hadn’t looked behind you. Even as sweat had dripped down your neck and collected on your palms beneath your far too warm gloves. You had simply taken a moment to collect yourself and carried onwards.
The silence of the cave had been deafening and you are not one to scare easy but there was just something so unnerving knowing that that you definitely were not alone in a darkness unfamiliar to you. And the crystals. The same ones you had seen pushing up from the snow like new flowers in spring. The cave was full of them, clustered together and jutting up from the dirt and shining a red that had your gut twisting as if you had eaten something spoiled and rotten. The hum was stronger in these ones beneath the earth. More akin to a vibration so intense that it pierced your skin and rattled your bones. You hadn’t spent long in this cavern so close to the disaster above yet even as you left the you could still here those whispers skittering across the stone and through the air and maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you were paranoid. But you couldn’t stop your pace from quickening and your heart from racing as you had strode through the passageway far narrower than the previous and hoped that it led to the surface. You had been in luck for once and you had soon found yourself back out into the night and with hands certainly not shaking you had swung up onto Suledin’s back and spurred her further into the snow.
But as you sit now before a fire with your companion curled on the ground and nestled at your back you can’t help but feel as if you’re still being watched. Eyes shining in the dark and whispers on the wind. Sparks of red cutting through the night and your hands curl around the hilts of your twin blades. Your eyes flick this way and that as you scan the darkness but you see nothing but black. And the beast as your back does not stir.
You need sleep. You need to rest. Your wards have been set and you are as safe as you can be and staying awake any longer will only serve to heighten your paranoia.
Tomorrow you head north. Hopefully you’ll find something. You have to.
+++++
Your dreams are twisted and mishappen. A darkness crowds at the edge of your vision as you spy a flash of orange hair and you try to follow the figure as she darts off into the dark but you can’t move your legs. Your feet are stuck in the mud and tar and you don’t budge even as you struggle and claw at the tendrils that curl around your legs and slither up your torso. It’s as if vines of pure night wrap around your body, your chest and arms and through the whispers your hear a laugh, deep and throaty and the twisting creepers morph into fingers, blackened and thinned by rot. Nails dig for purchase against your clothes as inch by inch they claw their ways up your arms and nothing you do is helping.
Nothing you can do will help. You know that deep within your chest. But you keep trying.
Even as it becomes hard to breathe. Even when you feel the icy touch of fingers chilled by death as they grasp at your neck, even when they grip and squeeze and pull at your skin digging sharpened claws into flesh hidden beneath padding and clothes-
~~~~~
You jerk awake to a sun barely poking over the horizon and a mount that startles and pulls away as you gasp for air, leaving you to fall on your back to the hardpacked ground. You see the overhanging branches of trees high above before a snout of white enters your field of view and pokes at you with a nose wet and brown.
“I’m fine,” you breathe out as you raise a hand to nudge her away and you wish you weren’t lying. You hold a hand to your chest as you close your eyes and your gloved fingers grip at your blues as you lay in the cold listening to the stuttering of your heart. Your eyes unfocus as you stare at the mottled dark blues and greys of a waking sky until Suledin hovers once more over you and leans in close only to place her tongue against your cheek and lick the entire side of your face, “Ugh!” you grimace as you roll away from her and push yourself to your feet, wiping your cheek against your sleeve as you glare at her, “That’s gross!” you exclaim. There’s a twinkle to her eyes and a shuffling of her legs as you hear a rumble come from within her chest and if you didn’t know better you would say she’s laughing at you, “Oh ha ha,” you roll your eyes with a shake of your head as you walk on over and grab her reins, “You’re lucky I love you, you stinking beast,” you smile as you scratch her tufted chin before pulling yourself up onto her back, “Come on,” you spur her into walking, “We have people to find.”
/////
The heavens are crying. You just had to go and get stuck in a blizzard and right after you were starting to get somewhere too.
You had seen signs of life littered about the snowy mountain top. Campfires long since gone cold, blood smeared on tree bark and stone and although the snowfall had covered footsteps you knew had to once have been heralding your way there was enough of a trail for you to follow. Enough of a trail that you had found yourself standing atop the great snowy incline of a steep hill between a break in the otherwise impenetrable mountain. And when you looked down at the sight before you you knew. You knew. You were on the right track. The ground here was trodden and marked from the hurried paths of people fleeing an unknown enemy and the shuffling and scraping of tents and wagons being secured to the rock and later packed away to continue on an uncertain path. They had survived.
But where were they going?
You had continued on following your gut and the minute signs of people once trekking through snow until the sky had opened and your vision had been stolen by a field of white, rendering the path before you almost invisible. Yet you had pushed on.
And now you’re being followed. Again. Or maybe they had never left and you had simply been too consumed by your task to even notice that you were being trailed. Too worried about what laid ahead to look back. It wouldn’t be the first time. Even with the wind howling in your ears you can hear the shuffling and grunting at your back as Suledin soldiers on through the blizzard and you free one hand from the reins to grab at a dagger holstered at your side and you spin in your saddle, blade wreathed in a fire that cuts easily through the falling snow.
And you come face to face with a monstrosity you have never seen before. But one you know the shape of.
Bodies broken in the snow. But not all it seems.
You catch only a glimpse of it in the second you turn around but that’s all you need. Flesh grey and puckered, skin fusing with armor bearing the seal of the Templar order and those same sickening crystals you had seen growing from the ground are splitting through this monstrosities skin just as easy as they had broken through the cracked earth. Humanity gone. Soul. Gone. Arms and hands gone too, replaced by sharpened blades of taunting red and it stops dead in its tracks as you sit atop your mount. It’s veins are glowing and pulsing along to a sickening beat that you realize with a growing dread you can hear and it just watches. You can’t see its face through the helmet it still somehow wears but you just know it’s grinning at you.
And then in a blink it vanishes. Wait. No. No it’s-
-a flash of red through the white and a laughter in your ears all at once soft and teasing and you turn to follow the streak. You spin to face the front once again and your heart leaps into your throat when you see the living shadow is right in front of you and in the moment you go to point your dagger it strikes out. Faster than anything you’ve had to face in a long time. Faster than you had anticipated. And the only way you can avoid it’s blade skewering through either your shoulder or your companion is to let go of the reins, and throw yourself from the saddle.
It's like time slows down as you fly through the air.
Your breath comes out like a mist midst the terrified and confused cries from Suledin and your head snaps to the side as you watch her sprint past the horror that turns to you even before you’ve hit the ground. Your dagger flies from your hand, you watch your friend falter and slow and as your back hits the snow with an almost soundless thud you are scrambling to your feet in the snow as you shout.
“Go! GO! Run!!” you cry because you can’t lose her and you know she would stay by your side even if it meant her death. She’s smart. Smart enough to survive on her own. And you can see she’s torn between returning to your side or running to her freedom and you have to make up her mind for her as the shadow begins to turn her way and so you do the only thing you can think of.
You raise an arm and pull it back with your closed fist wreathed in flames that lick harmlessly at the leather of your glove and you hurl the ball of fire, watching as your magic sizzles through the air and slips between the two unmatched opponents to crash to the snow in the space that divides them. You lose sight of Suledin through the wall of steam thrown up by your improvised attack and the shadow screeches as it raises its arms to shield itself from the boiling mist that leaps out and latches hungrily onto its skin. It spins to face you but you couldn’t care because as the steam rises into the air to join the snow falling from up high the smoke screen vanishes. Your friend is gone.
And you are left alone to face a possible death.
But you’ve faced worse than this and not just lived but thrived.
“So give it your best shot you ugly son-of-a-bitch,” you snarl as you unsheathe your other blade while it’s partner lays in the snow at your feet but you can’t risk taking your eyes off this monster to grab it. Not while it stands there watching you and that’s just it. It’s simply watching and it’s yet to make another move. What is it waiting for? You narrow your eyes as you stare at this… thing and the only light you see in its eyes is the same red glow that seems to pump it’s toxic blood throughout its body. That light speaks nothing of intelligence and yet it is waiting for something.
A shiver up your spine…
Eye shining in the dark.
Duck!
You drop low, scooping up your fallen blade as you roll backwards through the snow before leaping to your feet and facing your opponent anew.
Opponents.
“Well…” you find yourself letting out a strangled laugh as you stare into the eyes of two others with blades just as wicked and teeth just as sharp, “This reminds me of a saying spoken very frequently by my Pa when I used to get into all kinds of trouble with my cousins,” your lips pull taught as your mouth stretches into a grin, “Bad things always come in threes.”
You hear their growls clearly through the blizzard and your palms are sweaty as you readjust how tightly you grip your daggers and there’s those voices again, nagging and pulling at the back of your mind. Give in. Let go. Flames lick up your arms, the snow at your feet melts and the flakes that fall from the sky sizzle before reaching you. Like a gentle hand guiding your movements you raise your arm, dagger aimed forwards as you point the blade at the creature that stalked you for miles.
“Come on then,” you hiss and you’re so close. So close that you’ll do anything. Anger surges within you and you will not let these beasts kill you when you’ve come so far.
Mouths part and roars are sounded and the shadows push off through the snowfall with a sped that has you almost immediately lose sight of them but your instincts are just as quick.
Movement to your left.
You duck and swivel, hack and slash. Flames fly and lightning crackles and the smell of burnt flesh rises in the air around you joined by howls of pain that fill the storm like a sweet song. Those sounds of agony delight you and the wounded cries only cause your grin to grow wider as you twirl through the snow to avoid another blow. Back and forth, slice and cut. Magic spewing forth from hands and blades and the heat within you urges you on. Fight. Survive. But you are only fighting two. So where is the other?
No intelligence. But they still manage to trick you.
A mighty blow to your back as you stop momentarily to catch your breath and you are flung forwards with no time to cry out before you land face down in the drift. Pain lances up your spine and you gasp, cold crystals filling your mouth before you roll onto your side with a groan and move to wipe the snow that covers your eyes. Your gloves fingers come back stained red and your vision remains blurred as a pain blooms within your skull and your blood runs into your eyes. As you lever your chest out of the snow to see shadows approach through the blizzard a fear grips your heart and you whip your head around to look for your weapons but the fast movement sends you vision swimming and your shaking arms give out as you collapse back into the snow. Did that creature break something? Why are you shaking so? You need to get up. Move. It’s too much of a dream to hope those creatures will simply pass you by.
You curl your hands into fists and you push yourself to your knees, crawling and reaching half-blind through the snow for your blades you know can’t be far but your fingers find nothing but empty space and you’re going to die here. You can feel it deep within your chest, the dread pulsing alongside your heartbeat and everything hurts so much. You grit your teeth and tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to cry. Even when the heat rises to your face and your body throbs in pain and you can hear your attackers getting closer through the snow, grunting and hunting you and you are so damn close!
They’re just closer.
Something fast whizzes towards you and you throw yourself backwards as two blood-red crystals slice through the padding beneath your armpits inside of burying themselves within your chest and at least you’re not dead, but you’re still caught.
You’re hoisted into the air by shards of thrumming song and the tune is so loud that you almost loose yourself. Your arms snap forwards and you grip the crystals to keep from sliding any further towards the monster as your heart hammers behind your ribs. Your back screams in protests, your arms are shaking and your head swims but you will not give up. You try to pull yourself free but as it lifts you higher, despite your best efforts, you jerk closer towards its grinning maw. Eyes sunken and glowing, flesh withered and decaying and you’re scared. You feel like a child again. Helpless and screaming, kicking your feet and struggling with all your might as the man lifts you into the air, his gauntleted fist wrapped within the fabric of your shirt.
He’s leering at you, eyes rimmed by dark bags and his face unshaven and all you had wanted was to shop in the marketplace but you had been caught not even a few footsteps out of the Alienage walls. You hadn’t seen him. Hadn’t even known he was there but this monster with his sword emblazoned chestplate and blood-red sash grins at you with a blazing hunger behind his eyes and all you can feel is fear.
There’s no one else around. No one else to stop him. He’s going to kill you. You just know it.
Tears fall from your eyes but you grit your teeth. You refuse to reward him with your cries and that angers him as he jostles you so far above the ground you feel like you are being dangled over the edge of a cliff. Pain sparks through your chest and you gasp as a heat blossom across your front and you kick out but all you hit is a solid mass of man that does not give. You have nothing. No friends. No weapons. No… No… You have you, though. You have your magic, your fear. Your rage.
A pressure builds behind your eyes and trickles like wine down your throat as the pain from your chest shoots upwards and you feel nothing but all-encompassing, blinding rage. You light up. Your mouth opens. And you scream.
+++++
Your eyes snap open and you’re laying face down in the snow with nothing but silence filling the air. You don’t even hear the blizzard.
There’s a foul smell lingering in the air and a horrid taste coating the inside of your mouth and you almost choke on the bile that rises up your throat before you spit a glob of something black out and onto the dirt. You stare at it, whatever it is that was pulled from your throat as it sits wet and shining upon the ground and there’s a hollowness that forms in the pit of your stomach the longer you look and so you turn your head and gingerly push yourself to your knees. The snow around you is gone. Melted. Like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Your blood has dried upon your face and as you rise to your feet you feel part of your hair is stiff with it but the state of yourself falls to the back of your mind as you view the scene before you.
At the three burnt husks being the only indication that you had any foes to begin with.
You frown at the sight and even deeper so at the memory of the rage that overtook you but you can’t have been possessed. You’re still here. Your breathing sounds loud to your own ears as you stand still and watch the steam rise from corpses still warm. You need to move. To go. You can’t stay here even if the blizzard has settled. How long were you out for? What even happened? Pain sparks through your right arm, travelling up the limb and into your chest and you gasp as you squeeze your eyes shut and double over in pain. You hiss out a breathe through gritted teeth as you grip your afflicted limb with your opposite hand and you wish more than anything that you had at least kept some healing potions on your person. But never had you thought you would be separated from Suledin. Your friend… You feel your face grow warm with held-back tears. You hope she’s okay.
The pain lasts far longer than it ever has before and by the time it ebbs away enough for you to stand straight your back aches and your legs shake beneath you. You need to find a healer. You need to find your love. But first things first you need to find your damn daggers. The snow has yet to return to this scorched patch of earth and you having a feeling it may not cover this ground for a time yet. What that says about what occurred here, you don’t know. What you do know however is that the barren space makes finding your blades a whole lot easier. You retrieve your weapons and return them to their holsters before you take a deep breath and raise your head to the sky. The sun has started to dip low and while the creeping chill of the approaching night bodes ill for your unprepared state you do manage to find north easier than you would have otherwise.
“Alright,” you speak to no one but yourself, “You’re okay. You can do this.” One foot in front of the other. All you have to do is keep going. You’ll make it. You will make it. You will endure.
You take a step.