Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The doors of the train slid closed. Their familiar clunk went  unheard through Rivers' favourite noise-cancelling headphones. Bopping their head to their latest playlist, River selected a forward facing seat and propped their feet up. They’d feel bad for putting their shoes on the upholstery, but the amount of dust that rose at the impact reassured them that they would hardly be adding much to the neglected cushion.

As River watched the buildings give way to trees beyond their window, they allowed their mind to wander. A low-paid teaching assistant job hadn’t been part of their career plan when they studied environmental science at university. But depression has a way of trashing a person’s plans, and they don’t tend to give out degrees to people that shut themselves away and attempt to hibernate during the entire final term of their degree course. If River hadn’t had the new Dragon Age game to focus on during those months, they might have simply given up and become a vegetable.

Things had been going pretty well recently; having a job that didn’t require them taking any work home with them had done wonders for River’s stress levels, and emotional wellbeing. They hadn’t touched the game in ages. Although, maybe if they sat down with it again they might be able to play all the way through to the end, instead of getting distracted by a new character idea and starting over. Again.

River sighed. It seemed like it would be the most exciting thing they had going on outside of work hours. Since COVID killed all their Dungeons and Dragons games their social life had pretty much tanked. River took a moment to lament their inability to focus during an online game. The inconvenience of untreated ADHD. The Dragon Age RPG campaign had been particularly promising, too. They had a great idea for a Dalish character that they hadn’t had the opportunity to actually play. It would have been cool to enjoy the flexibility and exploratory capabilities of a shapeshifting character. The absence of weekly social events was starting to take it’s toll somewhat on their mental health, too.

River shook their head, clearing it of those melancholy thoughts. Perhaps when they re-started Inquisition they could re-create that character? The RPG would have had more options in regards to roleplay and magical abilities, but they could try to make it work. Though, they wouldn’t be able to have the shape-shiting abilities that were one of the things River had been most excited about when they created Eralen. Maybe it could be enough, just to keep them going until they could try an in person group for the RPG again.

River’s contemplation was interrupted when the train carriage gave a sudden jolt. They threw their arms out to cushion theirself. The world was suddenly sideways and they were flung from the seat completely. The carriage lurched and spun again. The ceiling rose inexorably to meet them, and River knew no more.

xxxx

On a snowy ridge, in a formerly secret valley, an elf hid. Below them, a path wound up the icy valley floor. Carefully spaced groups of armoured and robed figures marched to the temple that loomed at the top. The Mages and Templars had been making their way up this path for a few days now, discreetly observed by the individual pressed into the shadows between the craggy rocks at the peak of the ridge.

Eralen sighed softly, considering their options once again. If they were to learn anything more useful than a head count they still needed a way into this conclave. Had they been hasty when they ruled out posing as a servant? Plenty of servants were elves in Ferelden. Unfortunately, the tattoos on their face would immediately single them out as Dalish. A Dalish elf signing up for servitude to humans would be unusual enough to get noticed by someone. Someone who might then have questions. Like ‘Who are you?’ and ‘Why are you here?’ Eralen had very little practice at lying. And Eralen was extremely reluctant to be stuck surrounded by mage hunters should this grand negotiation not end favourably.

A mouse would be much less likely to even be seen, they supposed, if they chose to slip inside in a different shape. But they would be much more vulnerable, and Eralen had no desire to experience death by cat or trap. Or someone’s boot if they weren’t quick enough. Maybe they could alternate between mouse and servant? It would be worth it to be present. To find out what agreement would be made, if the freedom of mages would be upheld.

It was Eralen’s duty to find out. Dalish magics were just one of many things kept secret from outsiders, but maybe this could be a step forward? If magic became better known to common humans, perhaps the Dalish could travel more freely too. Being able to use their magical gifts to defend themselves without it starting a Templar incident would make travel safer. Eralen was quite familiar with the dangers of the road. Their unique gifts saw them travel from clan to clan often.

Only a few times over the years had Eralen needed to dodge a Templar hunting party. Fortunately, the mage hunters tended to stand out in their polished steel armour, and they never considered that their quarry might be escaping as an owl. Or a hawk. Or a mouse. Most people don’t tend to look up very much.

Eralen could defend themself should they be cornered, if it had ever come to that. A templar relied heavily on Smiting the magical strength from apostates. They weren’t trained as rigorously in how to fend off an angry bear or wolf. And so far they had failed to suspect that such a beast could be the quarry they sought.

Shapeshifting, the magical art of studying and taking the form of an animal, had been a favoured skill of ancient elven mages Eralen had studied. When their kingdom of Arlathen fell, much of their culture and knowledge had been lost with them. Fortunately, The Fade, realm of magic, spirits, and dreams, still held echoes and scraps of memory in it’s depths. For most, the power and control required to venture into the fade with the conscious intent needed to explore properly could only be gained via ritual. An Era’gilaseth (Called Somniari in the human languages,) such as Eralen, however, is fortunate to be born with a natural affinity. From a young age Eralen had experienced vivid dreams. As they grew, they learned how to manipulate the fade around them, protect theirself from it’s inhabitants and even befriend a few peaceful ones.

Those inhabitants of the fade, Spirits and Demons, are born from dreams and memories, the feelings and motivations within. They are drawn to the presence of people. Thus a young Era’ghilaseth has greater need than a regular mage to learn their ways well, and quickly. The natural downside of possessing great power is that you need to be cautious of those who will want to possess you. Having learned their way around their dreams and the dangers of the fade, an era’gilaseth is a great gift to the elven people as a whole. Capable of consciously entering the fade is invaluable if you wish to remove a demonic possession without killing anybody. All of this aside from the fact that their stronger connection to the fade gave their spells more power. And made them a bigger target for magic-fearing, chantry-loving Templar mage hunters…

Dragging their gaze away from the armoured party they had been glaring daggers at, Eralen slid carefully down their rock. They turned away from the temple and it’s frustrating conundrum, hungry for a cold meal under their meagre shelter of a rocky outcrop hidden from the road. Then, the very world around them seemed to pulse with energy. They turned to face the temple once again, the source of the strange sensation, as many things happened at once.

The temple was blasted apart by an explosion of vivid green energy. Chunks of masonry launched across the valley as a horrific boom echoed around it, shaking snow from trees and cliffs. A horrifying green tear in the world ran from the smoking, shattered ruins of the temple and into the sky. a roaring, rending sound filled the air as the sky above what had been a holy sanctuary tore itself apart, jagged and unnatural.

Thrown into a drift of snow, Eralen did not react to this magical disaster. At the very moment the temple was blasted apart, their mind was assaulted by an overwhelming wave of power, knocking them unconscious.

Chapter Text

River's awareness returned only partially. They were tumbling, their surroundings passing them by in a blur, but the rushing around them was not wind. They shuddered and flailed, their reaching arms giving them balance and ending the awful rolling of their unconsciousness.  For some reason, they weren't panicking. Rather than falling through the endless mist around them, River felt as though they were being drawn in. As they looked towards the dim glow ahead of them, the mists surrounding them obediently withdrew. Where before nebulous clouds had billowed, now a vast galaxy of lights and sounds stretched into the farthest distance. From each light, both distant and near, came snatches of sound, flickers of scenery, and echoes of emotions. The lights passed them by too fast to keep track, an almost dizzying rush of information that River was glad they had initially been shielded from.

They became aware of their own glow only once the initial dazzlement wore off. Their body seemed almost translucent, lit from within, but otherwise just as they would expect. Their colour and shine shifted as they breathed, as they thought. Distantly, but growing ever closer, their partner light shifted and gleamed in harmony.

River's attention was caught by another light, almost directly in their path. It was a stark, burning light. Its rhythms purposeful and direct, yet the colours at its centre were smooth and gentle. As they nearted each other, it's form remained indistinct, but recognition hit River all the same. "It's you" they breathed, as much with their heart as their words. They felt the perception of the light fall upon them in return, and an echo of the same recognition. As they passed, the familiar mind briefly orbited them. A sense of assessment, decision, then knowledge without words passed between them before The Warden rose away. Reeling slightly, River tucked the gift into their own mind to consider later.

Almost immediately, yet another light flared, briefly orbiting in sync as it's aura flashed and crackled energetically. The Champion prickled at them defensively, it's symmetrical colour patterns flickering from one colour to the next rapidly. With recognition came confusion, then a sense of determination, decision. The champion did not offer any gift before they were separated, but focused on River with a searing intensity. If they had been looking at one another, River was certain that their appearance would have been memorised. The champion gave a last, nod-like flicker before River was drawn away from them.

River was unsure if their perception was shrinking, or their power was waning as the clouds from before began to draw close around them again. The irresistible draw of their twin light never dimmed or wavered, however, and River was struck by a growing sense of closeness.

The radiance of the light, and their own glow flashed brighter and faster as they drew near to their mirror. With a final flash and flare they connected, and then all River knew was darkness once more.