Chapter Text
CHAPTER I
Brightness
The first thing the elf felt was excruciating, pulsating pain in his left palm, followed by only slightly less excruciating headache. He way lying on a cold, stone floor that was chilling his bones and causing bruises. The first few seconds after he regained consciousness were filled with blissful ignorance of what happened. The only thing he could focus on was pain, and it was reassuring in some way, strangely comforting.
But that was going to be over soon. Through the dense mist of pain filling his mind, he heard distant footsteps. Heavy, fast and loud on the stone, made by more than one pair of legs.
The reality hit him very hard.
Focus. Focus. Where am I? What am I doing here? What in the Fade is happening?
And there it was, the stress, the anxiety, panic creeping up. Trembling, sweaty palms. He pushed it away, ignored it for as long as possible.
The footsteps were getting louder and louder, almost here now. As the headache started to fade away, he began noticing other sounds too – water dripping slowly somewhere nearby, quiet murmur of voices in the background, his own very heavy, raspy breathing. As much as he wanted to keep lying there and refuse to face the reality, the reality was forcing itself anyway. It was time to open his eyes.
The light hurt, pierced the temples even though it was dim, enough only to recognize shapes. He was lying on stone, in a small room, with crates instead of door and… it was no room. It was a cell. A tiny, very dirty, piss-smelling cell. He tried to get up, but his hands were in shackles. He must’ve had hit his head pretty hard, because his left hand seemed to be glowing green. Hallucinations, he was sure.
And then he saw four sets of heavy boots.
“Open the cell” said one voice, raspy and commanding, with a foreign accent he could not recognize. “Get him on his feet. We need to take him to the interrogation room.”
An interrogation room? Why? What did I do? This is bad. This is really bad.
The cell opened, and two silhouettes came in. He could not see the faces, but they looked like guards, judging by the identical armors. They grabbed him by arms and lifted him without any questions. He caught a glimpse of two other persons that were waiting by the door – two women, one tall and looking very angry, the other one just observing him carefully with her face mostly hidden behind a hood. The panic creeped on him once again, making him swallow all words of objection he might have had. The guards dragged him out, and he let them.
They walked a long, dark corridor, the angry woman leading them, occasionally shooting angry looks at him, the other one behind them, so quiet he could not hear her at all. He tried to walk at first, but couldn’t really keep up, so just let the guards basically carry him.
FUCK SHIT CRAP THIS IS REALLY BAD.
They arrived to a bigger chamber, his head pounding, his hand being torn apart. The guards suddenly pushed him on the ground; he wobbled, almost falling on his ass, but somehow managed to stay on his knees.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
He looked up, breathing fast, eyes wide open, feeling the tips of his ears go numb, anxiety setting up, not understanding any of what’s happening, unable to read the faces of people standing above him.
“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you know. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” said the angry, short-haired woman, pointing at him, boiling with emotions. She paced around him, making him even more confused.
He had no idea what to say or think about it.
“Wh… What? Dead?” he stuttered, unable to focus his thoughts. “What do you mean… everyone is dead?”
The angry one came closer, almost ran up to him. He jerked away but she was much quicker; she grabbed him by the arm and lifted his left hand up.
“Explain this!” she yelled, as his palmed glowed again with this weird, green light.
Does she see this? Am I not hallucinating? This… this is Fade-green. It´s FUCKING FADE-GREEN. WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS?
“I c-can’t!” he pleaded, getting more and more terrified by the second. He had troubles uttering words, couldn’t catch his breath, all muscles in his body were trembling and was getting light-headed, on his way to just pass out again.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” she asked, getting impatient, annoyed by the lack of answer.
He was trembling, not only scared but also bothered by how uncomfortable he was on his knees, with hands in shackles, people behind his back, everyone staring at him. He could feel cold sweat itching his back and forehead, the fabric of his armor scratching against his skin.
“I don’t what it is” he whispered, his voice small and lost between all those loud humans. “I don’t know how it got there, I swear-“
“You’re lying!” cried the woman, jumping to him as to strike him with her armored fist, but the other one stopped her gently. There was something about her, she radiated with a certain feeling of calm, but there was something very threatening in it. Like a hidden predator, calm and peaceful, but ready to jump and kill its prey any second.
“We need him, Cassandra” she said softly, observing him very carefully, not breaking the eye contact even for a second.
They NEED me? They NEED ME FOR WHAT? AND WHY?
Thoughts were running through his mind, scattered and making absolutely no sense.
“I… I don’t understand” his voice cracking, he felt the panic pushing tears out of his eyes. He was never more confused in his entire life. He could not remember anything from the few last days. He remembered his clan, they… send him somewhere, to something, he didn’t want to go, but they made him, and… the memory faded away once again.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!
“Do you remember what happened? How this began?” asked the ginger woman, crouching in front of him, looking him right into the eyes. It paralyzed him. He wasn’t sure where to look, his eyes wandering everywhere around except for her face.
He reached to his memory once again, tried to compose. There were… glimpses of this weird green light, running, maybe, a chase of some kind, a crowd of people. None of it made any sense.
“I remember… running, I think. Someone was chasing me? And then… a woman?” he mumbled, trying very hard to do as they ask, but mostly just getting a stronger headache out of this.
“A woman?” she inquired with a stoic voice, trying not to give her interest away, but failing. She was just as starved for answers as the one she called Cassandra.
“I… I think she reached out to me, but…” he explained, not sure if he really remembered or his mind just made something up because he needed it.
Cassandra grunted, not pleased at all and clearly annoyed, and stepped forward again.
“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift” she said to the other woman, calmer now, more resigned than angry. Leliana nodded, casted one last look at him and left. The guards saluted her.
She must be important. Both of them. What were the names again? Wait, where is she taking me? Rift? WHAT RIFT? ARE THEY GONNA THROW ME IN A RIFT?
“Rift? What rift?” he asked, hoping for something, some answer, or maybe at least to convince them that he really doesn’t know SHIT.
Cassandra pulled him up to his feet again, took the shackles off, oh sweet fuck these were hurting, but replacing them immediately with a rope.
Well shit.
“It… will be easier if I show you”, the woman replied, to his surprise, but not amusement.
I DON’T WANNA BE CLOSE TO ANY RIFTS!
The ropes didn’t hurt as much which was a nice change, clouded by the persistent green light coming out of his hand. How was that even possible was beyond him, and he decided to ignore that for now. The woman, what the hell was her name, Catherine, Kelsey, something, gesticulated at the guards to release them from the watch, and followed them out the door.
The elf was left alone in the room as confused as ever.
Cassandra’s head popped in again.
“Please, if you follow me” she said with her eyebrow lifted up, for once looking a bit confused too.
Crap.
He now followed her, as confused and embarrassed as ever, as usually. They walked outside together, the elf looking only at his feet, trying not to trip. The cold, frosty air made him shiver, the wind was howling between the trees. What caught his attention was the very peculiar shade of the snow, green, why is it green, it´s Fade-green, it’s--
“We call it the Breach” she said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up at her, but she was focusing on the sky, looking high up, so he followed the direction.
…oh holy MOTHER OF FUCKS, THE SKY IS BROKEN.
“It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.” Cassandra continues, studying the giant, swirling hole in the sky. At the lack of answer she looked again at the elf, his mouth wide open, eyes bigger than usual, focused completely on the magical phenomenon. She saw that look before many times during the battles, the look of a fresh soldier facing a hord of enemies for the first time – he was about to panic.
“What’s your name?” she asked instead, again, with a sturdy voice. The only thing she could do now was to try to bring him back, not to let him cross the line of losing his mind.
But he did not seem to hear her.
She came closer, touched his arm to break the focus and it worked slightly better than expected – he jerked away, like the touch hurt him.
Don’t touch me, you strange person!
“Can you tell me your name?” she asked again, knowing she shouldn’t be harsh, feeling in her guts he could not be responsible for the massacre, but unable to let go. The death of the Divine was still fresh.
He moved away from her, as he was on his way to just drop everything and run, but instead just cleared his throat and took couple of deep breaths.
“F-Firevanda’el” he replied with a weak voice. “Firevanda’el Enansal Lavellan, of the dalish Clan Lavellan” he said quietly, comforted by the sound of something familiar, even if so little.
“Pleasure” she said, almost spitting the word, now annoyed by the fact that they were wasting time. “My name is Cassandra. Please, compose yourself. We have no time to lose”.
The elf tried to push the feeling of panic away, tried not to think of the giant hole and the demons that might be coming out of it, and the most dreadful fact that the Breach was the same color as his glowing hand.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK. Fucking fuck in the fuck. Breath. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.
“An… an explosion can do… that?” he asked, voice cracking and trembling more than he wanted, but at least able to say something, anything.
“This one did” Cassandra replied, scanning the elf, judging if he’s fit for anything that was to come. “Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.”
Before she got to finish the sentence, the Breach flashed with a strong, bright light, and the elf’s hand responded with the same. He felt a sting of pain, raw and overwhelming, strong enough to make him let out a scream and send him to the ground again. He held the palm away from him, as if it could distance the pain as well. Cassandra crouched beside him, looking him in the eyes, but not getting the same from him.
WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT IS HAPPENING?!
“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.”
“Killing you”. At this point it might be actually the better way out. Shit.
The elf took a deep breath, unsure what is exactly expected from him, unsure if this even is real.
“I... I don’t really have a choice about it, do I?” he asked partly her, but mostly himself.
“None of us has a choice” she replied, helping him up and guiding him to the right path.
Well, shit.
As they followed the road through the village, Firevanda’el noticed many people watching them pass, and even more arriving, probably lured by his scream. Most of them looked quite angry, he noticed, some even muttering curses at him under their breath.
It was his worst nightmare coming to live, and there was no chance that he could simply wake up. Cassandra watched him closely, determined to not have any more delays cause by panic.
“They have decided your fate” she explained. “They need it. The people of Heaven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.”
It did not make him feel better. He still couldn’t remember what happened exactly, but he was sure he can’t be the one to blame. That didn’t help with so many pairs of hateful eyes looking at him, judging, wishing death upon him.
His throat was dry, palms sweaty, shaking knees, mind still cloudy. He followed Cassandra, or rather let her pull him forward, trying to just move forward and not collapse. As they drew nearer to the edge of town, the guards opened the gates, letting them out.
“We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves” said Cassandra, voice filled with faith. “As she did”, she added under the breath, more sorrowful now. “Until the Breach is sealed”.
She pulled a small dagger and gestured at him so he’d come closer.
“There will be a trial” she said, her voice a bit softer now. “I can promise no more”.
It was something at least, he thought.
I guess I’m not being thrown into any rifts, then?
She cut the ropes on his wrists, which he welcomed with gratitude. The stiff material cut the skin, but the pain was grounding, calming in not an entirely healthy way, but calming nonetheless.
“Come. It is not far.” Cassandra followed the path again, which lead across the bridge they were on now and further, on the side of a mountain.
There were many people, wounded people, on the bridge. Some of them, as he realized, were dead, with a priest praying over them – some lying on the ground, some piled up on a wagon. The scale of it shocked him, he had never seen so many dead bodies, and so disrespected as well. Soldiers with bandaged limbs and heads lying on improvised beds, some of them were just standing in groups, talking quietly; one was sitting on the side, catatonically rocking back and forth, mumbling quiet prayers. There was only one thing they all had in common, and it was the hopelessness, the fear and the pain in their eyes.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, overwhelmed and tired by all the unknown that was happening, running in an attempt to keep up with Cassandra.
“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach” the woman replied, but the answer did not clear anything for him, so he just followed her in silence, trying to focus on something he knew he could do. Like breathing. Or walking.
This is really, really bad.