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"… THE THRONE OF THE GODS, AND IT WAS EMPTY!"
A dragon made of rotten meat and bones roared right in her face and Mornemyr jolted awake only to fall back on the cold ground again from the flash of pain. Heart was pounding in her ears, almost louder than the cacophony of Corypheus' voice and the screeching of his dragon still lingering in her mind. Burning Heaven, people dying and the hideous creature holding her meters above the ground – she wasn't sure it all wasn't a part of a horrible nightmare anymore.
She slowly opened her eyes. Judging by the snow prison that greeted her and a wooden debris scattered around it all was a cruel reality, and it meant she had to stand up. Somewhere out there was The Inquisition, people who counted on her despite her extensive protests against being called "Herald of Andraste". Somehow after only a few months she grew fond of that particular horde of shems.
She groaned and tried to sit up. Her whole body felt like she was beaten up by someone very enthusiastic with a giant stick. Mother was right when she said a decent dalish elf should not mess with shemlen, it always leads to somebody being hurt, and look where exactly she was right now! Myr looked around searching for her trusty staff. Luckily she discovered it in a hands reach and soon her fingers graced familiar surface of a wooden handle. It was one of those times she needed the staff more as a physical support rather than a magic conductor. Holding one hand on the ground she turned the way she was standing of her knees then continued to stand up leaning heavily on a staff – left foot on the snow fist, then right but the moment it touched the ground Mornemyr let out a yelp and had to shift her weight back on one leg. Pain was so sharp she lost a sight for a moment, only seeing complete blackness. Clutching the staff in both hands she made a few deep breathes until she could see the snow again.
A thorough examination brought disappointing results – she must have broken her right ankle while flying down from that damned trebuchet. Who even decided it was a good idea to send her there to operate heavy machinery? She was a mage not a stable worker! Myr angrily stamped the staff on the ground. Of course she knew WHO to blame. Blasted Chancellor Roderick with his ideas and blasted Commander Cullen Rutherford with a hope in his blasted eyes. She had no chance the moment that man put his hands on her shoulders and said he believed in her. And now all she could do is to growl in frustration and embarrassment from the fact she was so easily persuaded. “Fucking handsome shemlen, should have left you all die for all I care”, she murmured trying to fight the blush on her cheeks while collecting herself once again. She should hurry if she wanted to see him, for revenge, of course, what else could be the reason.
Quick pat around her waist and a look on the ground after that confirmed the healing potions were no more – that puddle of fizzling something was less inviting than a warrior’s aravel on a hot summer day. If only she didn’t think the healing magic was the most boring of them all she would have known how to treat a fracture bone but alas – she was left with her broad knowledge of how to freeze a person to their death and then apply a good discharge of electricity to polish the job.
“Remember what the Healer told when you had fallen from the tree after accidentally shifting back”, Myr decided talking out loud would help her recollect the old memory, and she was right. “Hmm. She said to keep it still. What can I do to keep it still then?” she didn’t have any rope to tie one of the trebuchets debris pieces to her leg. Then it hit her, and a few hand manipulations later her foot was covered in a thick layer of ice up until the calf. She tried to step on it again and frowned. It was still hurting but as long as she was careful the pain should be tolerable, besides the ice had additional calming effect. Mornemyr gripped the staff more firmly and slowly moved towards the cave’s entrance.
***
Two despair demons took Myr completely by surprise, as well as her anchor. She had passed what looked like a thousand of stalactites and stalagmites and finally she saw the light at the end of the ice tunnel when a sudden force hit her right in the middle of her chest. Demons appeared a moment later as always with deafening screeching but more shocking was the anchor flaring bright green and yanking her hand up. It felt like all the magic was pulled from her when the rift opened and sucked both demons in. A blink of an eye and the rift disappeared too.
At first Mornemyr thought about slapping herself on the face. After what felt like fifteen minutes of staring into space she decided she was just seeing thing because there was a good chance she hit her head on that trebuchet. Or maybe Corypheus had succeeded and she had been dead the whole time. But whatever was the reason her best option was to move forward.
***
Outside the cave was even worse. At the end of an hour she spent wandering around knee deep in the snow she regretted everything she had ever done but she kept pushing forward anyway. She didn't know what it was that made her move step by step through the pain and the cold wind biting her face - maybe it was wolves howling somewhere nearby behind the trees or maybe her desire to live a colorful life and she just couldn't let herself die in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe, just maybe, it was honey brown eyes filled with belief, and the warm feeling spreading in her heart telling her she couldn't betray that hope.
One little eternity later Mornemyr stumbled upon the bonfire. By that time the wind had already find its way under the layers of her clothes and she was shivering violently. She couldn't feel her limbs yet the pain from the broken ankle was still there and as strong as ever and Myr didn't have any strength anymore to question why it was happening.
The stones of the bonfire shone pale grey under the moonlight. If it was still warm it meant she couldn't be that far away from the people. Myr tried to make one more heavy step towards presumable safety but her legs decided to let her down for good. She fell on her fours letting go of the stuff in the process and the wind immediately rolled it away somewhere towards the darkness of the mountains. "Just fucking great", she moaned, following the last chance of standing with watering eyes. Without anything else to do Myr crawled closer to what used to be the welcoming fire. She took one of the stones in her shaking hands trying to find at least a little warm but what was left wasn't enough.
She could try to cast a fire spell - there were some pieces of wood remaining. If she tried hard enough she could fire it up and it would hold her a little bit longer. May be they were looking for her and the fire would help them to notice her. But... Could she, really? The chance was so slim she really doubted that. She was going to try it anyway even if she had to spend her last magic powers on a smallest flame there was.
Mornemyr hovered her hand over the bonfire and focused. Predictably nothing happened but she tried one more time, then one more again and again. The answer was nothing. "Fenedhis sala!" she groaned, feeling the frustration and panic coming up on the surface of her feelings. She shakes the hand and tried to focus again and this time the was definitely a reaction - unfortunately not the one Myr was looking for. First her fingertips got covered in frost and as her panic grew the frost spread faster and faster and soon both of her hands and the rest of her body were covered in it. The horrific view and the fear made the air caught up in her lungs and render her breathless. He eyes widened as she clutched her throat with one hand barely able to squeeze any oxygen. Myr collapsed in the pile of snow almost deafened by the staccato of her heart pumped up with adrenaline and prepared to meet her end when she felt strong hands pulling her out of her cold death bed.
"It's Herald! I found her!" familiar voice sounded like from under the water but just the idea that she wasn't alone anymore helped her enough to make a full breath. But the panic attacks wouldn't let her go that easily. She was still shaking violently, unable to hold her own weight, almost falling over again.
"Thank the Maker!" another pair of strong hand joined the first, catching her just in time.
"Why is she covered in ice?" asked the first voice. It sounded more worried than anything. She was that close to understand whom it belonged to.
"I don't know", replied the second person. Myr heard the fabric shuffling and a warm fingers pressing on her neck as if searching for the pulse. "Can you walk?" the voice was clearly addressed to her this time. She shook her head and tried to open her eyes only to see the lights swirling around.
The second person sighed tiredly. "Cullen, can I trouble you?" with the sound of the familiar name the lights finally formed into two tall figures - Myr recognized the seeker right in front of her looking tense and the commander even closer holding her in one place. Without a second of hesitation he lift her up bridal style as if she weighted nothing. Myr clutched his collar in her stiff fingers pressing herself closer towards the warm. The scent of wet fur, metal and something heavy with a tint of magic assault her awakened sense of smell.
"Go ahead to the camp", Cassandra reminded Myr of her presence. "I'll let the other groups know the search is over."
Commander just nodded in agreement and turned towards the near path between the mountains. "Cullen?" Myr half asked half cried when they made a turn right.
"Don't worry, I got you", he answered in a calming tone, squeezing her a little as if to prove his words.
"Did they make it safe?" her voice was barely heard when she buried her face into the fur collar closer to his neck. The stubble of his jaw lightly scratched the tip of Myr's ear.
"Of course, Herald. We couldn't do it without you", Cullen's voice seemed to soothe her pain and it made her eyes heavy with sleep.
"Thank you", Myr murmured and closed her eyes, falling into the darkness once again and this time it wasn't filled menacing figures and roaring dragons but instead with honey brown lights and strong hands holding her tight.