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Rook groaned, hunched over on his knees and a dull ache pressing the back of his mind, a reminder, or maybe the remainder, of his connection to Solas.
The ancient God of lies, treachery, and rebellion. Depending on the story.
Grunting with effort, Rook pushed himself to his feet. Only then did he take a good look around him. Shock and surprise stopped him. “Wait...” He was in the Fade, and he wasn’t asleep. “Damn, you, Solas!”
Rook knew this place, of course; the prison the Dread Wolf had made for Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain but had gotten caught up in himself when Rook disrupted his ritual.
Prison. Well, that was one way to describe the Fade. There was no rhyme or reason to it – broken bits of thoughts and ideas, of past and present, of architecture and...
I molded you into someone this prison would accept in my place.
Never in his life had Rook allowed defeat to win out over him, even when he was on the losing side. Always, he had taken the lessons and learned from them. A battlefield at Ventus. A refused promotion by the Magisterium. Being chased out of his home city by those he considered friends because he had angered the Venatori. But this time...
What was it Solas had said? Regret is even strong enough to serve as the lock on a prison built to hold gods.
Rook stared at his hands, hands that should have held on, should have fought back, should have....
The thud of booted steps behind him was Rook’s only warning he was no longer alone. Sucking in a sharp breath, he spun around, searching. At that same moment, an unfamiliar, yet somewhat relieved voice spoke. “Oh, good, you’re awake!”
Awake? Rook frowned. Had he been unconscious? It hadn’t seemed like it, but as he spotted a hint of movement – a shift among the shadows – something unlocked inside his head. This stranger’s voice, it seemed, was the key, breaking long-standing walls he’d thought firmly in place and allowing more familiar ones to reach him.
You weren’t good enough.
Varric never believed in you.
You’re worthless.
You’re no leader.
You failed us all...
Grimacing, Rook swiped his arm in front of him in an effort to ward them off. Instead, doubt took hold, claws sinking deep and hitting true.
Rook had far too many years of experience to let them distract him and, shoving them aside for now, he returned his attention to finding the source of the new voice. “Hello?”
More movement finally revealed a figure stepping into view. Human male, dark blond hair, dressed in Grey Warden armor. Rook guessed the man had at least a decade on him, but it was difficult to tell because he had clearly seen better days. Evidence of battles – against who or what, Rook had no idea – marked him. His armor dented and dinged and desperate for attention, yet somehow still holding together. A shield bent at an odd angle, but holding strong. However, the most striking thing about the man was his smile. A warm, friendly, and definitely relieved sort of smile. A smile wide enough that his teeth shone bright, a singular point of light as he closed the distance between them. “Boy, am I glad to see you!”
Bemused, Rook asked, “You...you’re a Grey Warden?”
“I am!” He extended a hand towards Rook. “Warden Alistair,” he said by way of introduction. “Are you stuck here in the Fade, too?”
Rook accepted the hand, shaking it in return. A Grey Warden named Alistair... Alistair Theirin? It took a moment to remember why the name was familiar. Harding’s stories! You are the warden the Inquisitor left behind in the Fade!
Rook pulled his gaze away from the man and looked around again, trying to gather his wits. “I suppose I am,” he finally replied. “Name’s Rook. Nice to meet you.”
As if suddenly noticing the condition of his armor, Alistair absently brushed at some of the worst spots, an awkward and insufficient attempt at best. Refocusing his attention on Rook, he asked, “How did you get here?” Then with a grimace of distaste, “I hope you didn’t have to fight a giant spider like I did.”
Rook blinked. “I beg your pardon, a...what?”
“A giant Fade spider.” Alistair’s lips slanted in a lopsided smile. Holding his shield in one hand, he spread his arms wide. “It was huge, let me tell you, and wasn’t easy to get away from!”
“I don’t imagine it was.” Off in the distance, Rook spotted a path leading to some steps. It seemed to be their only option leading away. Gesturing in that direction, Alistair followed after Rook with a nod. “So, you’ve been here for a while?” Rook asked as he started climbing.
Alistair shrugged. “In the Fade? I suppose. The Fade is a weird place.” Wiggling his fingers in the air between them, he continued, “Time is definitely strange here. Sometimes it feels like it’s only been a few hours, other times it feels like it’s been weeks or months.”
Rook bit his lip. More like years, my friend. But that was an announcement for a different time. “What about here?” he asked, sweeping his left arm around in a half circle. “In this area?”
“Oh, that!” Chuckling, Alistair rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I’m not quite sure how I got here, to be honest. A while back, I thought I saw someone wandering ahead of me. I tried to catch up to them – you get lonely walking around here all by yourself, you know? But no matter how far I went or how loud I shouted at them to wait for me, they always remained distant. Then...they disappeared.” He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing around them. “Just like that. When I reached where I thought they’d been, I found it empty. I heard a loud squawk, like a bird, nearby and then a...” He paused, frowned, then shrugged again. “Some kind of...portal, I guess, opened up. It almost looked like a rip in the Fade. Anyway, I decided it couldn't be worse than where I’d been, so without a second thought, I walked through.” He scratched his head, his smile returning. “I was hoping it might be a way out, but it brought me here. What about you?”
Rook gulped, reassessing the situation. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to give Alistair some sort of explanation or the man was going to think Rook had lost his mind. “Um, you know you’ve been lost for quite a while now, don’t you?”
Alistair tilted his head in curiosity. “I suppose?”
Rook sighed. So much for letting the man down easy. “More like years.” Nothing like being blunt.
Alistair blinked. “Years?”
Rook nodded. “All right, let’s start back with what you know. You were helping the Inquisition defeat Corypheus, right?”
Alistair nodded. “How did you – were you part of the Inquisition?”
Rook swallowed tightly, shaking his head. He’d been around twenty years old at the time and in his early days of serving in the Legion. “No, but I’ve...heard stories,” he finished lamely. “Stories about how you, the Inquisitor, and the Champion of Kirkwall went into the Fade and how you stayed behind so the others could escape. Your sacrifice was worth it,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “Not only did they make it back, but the Inquisitor defeated Corypheus. That was about ten years ago.”
Alistair stumbled, stopping in his tracks and blinking over at Rook. “Ten? Years?”
Rook nodded . “Yes. Harding said –”
“Harding?” Alistair scratched his chin. “I remember that name. Perky dwarf scout with the Inquisition?”
Rook’s heart clenched. Later. I’ll mourn later. “Yes. A lot has happened since the Inquisition defeated Corypheus, however. As it turns out, Solas –”
Alistair snapped his fingers again. “The mage on the Inquisitor’s team! He was with us in the Fade. So was Varric. And Hawke.”
Varric and Hawke? Varric had never said anything to Rook about that, but it went a long way to explaining why the dwarf had sought out the Shadow Dragons for help a couple of years ago. “Yes. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Solas is the Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel. Since leaving the Inquisition, he’s been trying to find a way to tear down the Veil. Weeks ago, he started a ritual to do just that. In the process, some elven gods escaped, and they are now trying to destroy the world. Varric and Harding recruited me to help hunt him.” Rook paused to give Alistair a moment to catch up. “Good so far?”
The poor man’s eyes looked glassy, but a moment later, they cleared, and he nodded. “I think so. Just... The Inquisitor is okay? He survived?”
Rook nodded. “I’ve met him,” he replied. “I also know another one of the Inquisition team: Magister Dorian Pavus. I’m...sort of related to him.”
“The other mage.” Alistair ran a hand over his face, briefly lost to his thoughts. But then a soft chuckle and a cheeky grin broke free. “You’re related to Dorian, you say? You have my condolences.”
Rook grinned back. Dorian was an acquired taste, he supposed. “He’s my father’s cousin.”
Alistair’s head cocked slightly to one side as he eyed Rook. “Blood-related, then. Are you a magister, too? I’m guessing you’re from Tevinter.” Another lopsided grin. “In all honesty, the accent gives it away.”
Rook choked on a laugh. Of course it had. “I’m not actually related to Dorian myself,” he clarified. “I was adopted. I am a mage, however, just not a magister. I used to be a soldier in the Tevinter Legion.”
Alistair whistled softly. “That explains the armor. And you said you were helping Varric and Harding track down Solas.”
“Yes.”
The smile returned. “All right, I think I’m with you so far. But how did you get here?”
Rook sighed. “That’s...a bit more complicated. Is it all right if we start walking? I’d like to see if we can find a way out of here.”
“Of course.”
Climbing the stairs, Rook noticed the path ahead of them was a lengthy one, twisted and twining. “As I understand it, we are currently inside the prison Solas fell into when I interrupted his ritual. He told me the original purpose was to transfer and lock away Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain.”
Alistair’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Let me guess...something went wrong?”
“Varric tried to talk to him, said his old friend deserved a chance to change his mind. Well, Solas wasn’t in a listening mood, I tried to get his attention by disrupting the ritual.” Heat flooded Rook’s face. “I should have known better, to be honest, but all I could focus on was finding a way to stop him. His ritual was causing all sorts of demons to escape into the real world and innocent people were dying. In the end, we did stop him, but at the cost of two elven gods escaping. When that happened, Solas ended up trapped in here.” Rook sighed again. “And in my head.”
“In your head?”
“Yeah, I was able to communicate with him through my dreams...meditations, whatever you want to call it,” Rook explained.
Alistair’s gaze narrowed on Rook. “That sounds suspiciously like blood magic.”
“I thought so as well,” Rook assured him. “Solas assured me he abhors blood magic, but apparently, it’s only certain kinds because he definitely was behind this.”
Alistair looked around as they climbed another set of stairs. “Is that connection broken now that he isn’t in here?”
“I don’t know, to be honest.” Rook replied with a shrug. “Even if it isn’t, I don’t expect him to lower himself to talk to the likes of me for advice on how to deal with two evil elven gods.”
Alistair snorted, amused. “No, he always struck me as a bit arrogant and egotistical.”
Rook finally found his first smile since realizing Solas was switching places with him. “That’s one way to put it.”
“All right. So, you’re fighting two evil elven gods –”
“Actually,” Rook interrupted, “we’re down to one. We defeated Ghilan’nain which, I think, might have triggered a tear or rupture into the Fade or gave Solas what he needed to break out of this prison, and ultimately is how I got here. But whatever happened, Solas and I switched places. So, not only do we have one god left, who is also probably the toughest of them all,” Rook concluded, “but we have the Dread Wolf to find as well.”
Alistair stopped again and turned to look at Rook. Rook followed suit and waited. “Right, then. Sounds like you have your hands full. We need to get you out of here so you can fight this...Elgar’nan, is it?”
Rook nodded.
“And save the world from the Dread Wolf.” A slow grin returned to Alistair’s features making him look far younger. “Well, I helped end the Fifth Blight, so I’m happy to offer my services should you need them.”
Laughter, soft and genuine, bubbled in Rook’s chest. “Trust me, there’s plenty of Blight involved with this battle, though it’s nature is decidedly different from any previous Blight.”
Alistair shrugged. “I’m a Grey Warden,” he said simply. “Just point me in the right direction. I’ll find a way to get the job done.”
“I appreciate it.” Davrin’s going to like you. “Now, let’s figure out a way out of here.”
They continued following the path, Alistair filling him in on his background as a Grey Warden and some of the adventures he’d been involved with over the years. Rook was surprised to hear that he and the Inquisitor were quite close, the Inquisitor being related to the Hero of Ferelden who Alistair had been interested in before they sacrificed themselves to end the Fifth Blight. Rook lost track of how many stairs they climbed and how much time passed.
At some point, however, the stairs leveled out and they came upon three statues looming over them. Each was a face that Rook knew well: Neve, Harding, and...
Ice ran through Rook’s veins. “Varric?”
The shadows to their right shifted, and a voice rang out. “ Hey there, kid. Come on through. ”
It wasn’t fear, exactly, that kept him frozen in place, but Rook struggled to find his voice. “What...what am I going to find?”
A hand settled on his shoulder, and Rook was startled to find Alistair standing right next to him. “Everything all right?”
“Did you hear that voice?”
Alistair shook his head.
Varric’s solemn voice called out to Rook once more in reply. “ I think you already know... ”
Before Rook could make a choice, the scene around him shifted. The three statues parted and a short hallway with a door at the end coming into view, one similar to the hall leading out of the Lighthouse. Another chill, stronger than the last, raced through Rook and he stumbled as he took a step forward. It took a moment to find his equilibrium again, then he took another. And another.
The door was heavy, and Rook had to lean his shoulder into it to get it open. But as he walked through it, instead of finding the Caretaker’s workshop on the other side, or any of the other buildings at the Lighthouse, he found something – some place – different. Swallowing tightly, he took a cautious step forward. “Varric, this is...”
“ Where it all began. ”
The scene around him shifted again, a quick series of images this time, a flashback to a rainy night at Solas’ ritual site in Arlathan Forest. One after another, memories assaulted Rook, hitting just as hard and painfully as any bladed weapon. Rook stumbling across the site to Varric’s side after he’d taken Solas’ blade in his chest. Rook dropping to his knees at Varric’s side. Rook watching the life fade from his friend’s eyes...
Rook jerked himself back to the present – at least, he thought it was the present – with a sharp shake of his head, the truth of what had happened that night finally laid bare before him. He was on his knees just like that night, leaning over a still form lying in front of him. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and rolled the body over.
No! Varric!
An echo of the body appeared at Rook’s side moving up to stand beside him. Alistair was nowhere to be seen, just Varric.
What is happening?
Rook stared at the echo for a very long moment. Of all the battles, of all the defeats he had ever suffered in his life, this one hurt the most. “Solas killed you,” he rasped, biting his lower lip in the hopes that the pain there would steady his voice, all the while fighting back grief, tears, and the growing ache in his chest. “You tried to reason with him, but he just cut you down!” With his shout, Rook’s grief morphed into anger, pure and unadulterated, and bubbled precariously close to the surface, begging to be set free.
A hand came to rest on Rook’s shoulder; the echo’s hand, but with the weight and purpose of the man to whom it had once belonged. It was trigger enough. Throwing back his head, Rook let loose a roar so like the dragon his father had used for his nickname as magic gathered at his fingertips, roiling and ready.
But just as the hand triggered that reaction, it squeezed again and in such a way that it immediately pulled Rook back, anchoring him to the moment. As he gasped for breath, eyes wide with pain, Rook shook with the realization at what had almost happened. The last thing he needed right now was to lose control of his magic in a fit of temper, especially here. His priority was to get out, to finish what they’d started, to see that Solas paid for his transgressions, not calling the attention of spirits or demons upon himself.
The echo smiled at Rook. “ Pretty sure he didn’t mean to.”
“Doesn’t matter, Varric. You’re still dead,” Rook choked out..
The image of Varric – spirit? ghost? something else? – sighed heavily. “ Yeah, sorry about that, kid .”
The ache of grief spiked hard in his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath. The anger from before stirred to life again. How could Solas – how dare he – take the life of a man with so little regard for it? They’d been friends! Did he really care so little?
Magical energy crackled and pulsed at Rook’s fingertips a second time, but just when Rook thought it might burst free, peace washed over him, coming out of nowhere, unexpected but not wholly unwelcome.
Rook is safe!
Rook is – Spite? Is that you? Inhaling sharply, Rook pulled back, his eyes wide as they met the echo’s.
And there, the shape of wings he was so used to seeing sprout from Lucanis during battle, materialized around Rook and the echo and the body lying before them, shades of purple forming a safety blanket of sorts.
Rook. Is. Safe!
Awestruck, it took Rook a second to find his voice and focus on the echo once more. When he spoke, his words came out a bit rough and raspy, but understandable all the same. “I...think I knew the truth all along, deep down, but I...I couldn’t face it.”
Slowly, the echo smiled. This wasn’t the first time he and Varric had had this particular conversation. “ Why not? ”
Rook gritted his teeth; he’d come this far, he had to finish it. Had to accept it. “Because it would mean admitting that I let you die.”
It might be an echo, but its mannerisms were the same as the man himself. It snorted loudly, walking over to look down at the body on the ground. “ Shit. Didn’t you learn anything from this place? ” He met Rook’s gaze, his voice adamant as he insisted, “I made the choice. To talk to him. To try to reach him. Even knowing the risks. Because he was my friend. My decision, my sacrifice. And you don’t get to take that from me. ”
Startled, Rook sat back on his heels. “But –”
“ Every story’s got an ending, kid. This one just came a little earlier than I’d planned. ”
Rook rose to his feet but did not move, as he digested that. Taking several deep breaths, he found the courage and let go, and along with it came allowed acceptance to settle over him. “I...I’m going to miss you, Varric.”
The echo’s image softened a bit. “ I’m gonna miss you, too, kid. ” Then it smiled. “But you’ve got your own story to finish. ”
The scene began to move and shift again, and a longer, taller set of stairs came into view. Seemingly out of nowhere, Alistair shouted, “ There you are!”
The echo chuckled softly as it amended, “ You both do. And I just know the ending’s going to be killer. ”
“Is that...is that the way out of here?” Alistair asked breathlessly as he joined Rook, still seemingly oblivious to Varric’s presence.
Rook nodded. “I think so. Go on,” he urged, hoping Alistair would give him just a moment longer to speak to Varric. “I’m right behind you.”
In the distance, beyond the edge of the top step there looked to be a tear in the Fade. Somewhere from the other side, Rook swore he could hear voices. Familiar voices. Voices shaped by hard edge of concern, but voices that wanted him back .
Alistair made it to the top and reached an arm through the tear. A moment later, he disappeared.
The echo accompanied Rook to the top of the steps. Rook hesitated there for a moment, staring at the opening while speaking directly to the echo. “You’re going to disappear now, aren’t you?”
The echo was smiling when Rook looked back. Rook held that smile close, securing it for eternity. “ I’ll fade back to being just a memory, yeah. I’ve had a good run, though. Besides, you’ve still got a job to finish. If anyone can do it, it’s you, Rook. ”
They echo reached out one last time to pat Rook’s arm. “ You’ve got this, kid. Don’t ever doubt that. ”
The garbled voices beyond the tear tumbled and turned over one another in confusion. Rook smiled back at Varric’s echo one last time. “Good-bye, Varric, and thank you.”
The echo retreated a step. Then another. And another. As it descended the stairs, it called back, “ I’m looking forward to seeing how it all turns out.”
“There he is! I see him!” a voice called out from the other side. In the next instant, a hand reached through towards Rook. Pulling his attention from the last fading remnants of his friend, Rook reached forward until his hand was clasped forearm to forearm. And with one last shove, Rook pushed his grief away and allowed hope, the likes of which had not felt for a good long time, fill him...