Chapter Text
Unlucky. That’s what her mother would have called this. Unlucky. To be fair, her mother had called a lot of things about her life unlucky. Djinn’s a girl? Unlucky. Djinn’s a mage? Unlucky. Djinn joins a Tal-Vashoth mercenary group and is tasked with protecting Divine Justinia’s Conclave? Unlucky.
Djinn would hate to see the look on her face when she realized she was finally right about something.
One moment, she’s at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the next, she’s kneeling on a damp floor, surrounded by armed soldiers, with a painful green light throbbing out of her tied right hand. Unlucky, indeed. The green wound is painful, the random pulse enough to pull a pained gasp from her chest. She’d never felt pain like this before. She’d been stabbed, sliced, had a horn nearly ripped off, burned, and even partially flayed, but this was different. This was every nerve on fire, a thousand hornets trapped under the skin, rashvine rubbed into an open, sandy wound.
When the door swings open, the light from outside is nearly blinding, enough to have Djinn squinting against it. Until it’s closed again, she can’t make out the two figures that enter.
“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?” A woman with a thick accent. Navarran, Djinn thinks. Her hair is short, and a jagged scar runs down her cheek. Djinn recognizes the eye on her breastplate but can’t remember the name of the order. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” The woman wheels on her, staring her down. Even on her knees, Djinn is nearly as tall as she is. “Except for you.” It seemed impossible, the idea that not only was the Conclave destroyed, but Djinn had had something to do with it. She wanted to defend herself but found that she couldn’t quite remember what had happened. She had flashes of memory. A woman’s voice. A familiar buzz against her skin. The metallic taste of her own blood. Running.
“You think I did it?” Djinn speaks before thinking, internally wincing at the harsh tone she had taken. She was already doing a bad job of convincing these people she was innocent, but then again, they were human, and she was a Qunari. They probably already had her death warrant signed. The woman surges forward, grabbing Djinn’s glowing hand.
“Explain this!” Once again, Djinn wants to.
“I can’t.” She replies simply, honestly.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” The woman spits. She was obviously very distraught, she probably knew someone who had been there. Lost someone, and Djinn was the only person who should have the answers.
“I mean, I don’t know what that is, or how it got there.” She hopes the sincerity in her voice is enough.
“You’re lying!” She lunges closer, but the other woman, this one a redhead in a purple hood, grabs her arm to pull her back.
“We need her, Cassandra.”
“Whatever you think I did, I’m innocent.” Djinn pleads, though the annoyance and anger were leaking into her words.
“Do you remember what happened?” The redhead questions, her accent more Orlesian and her voice softer than her counterpart. “How this began?” Djinn has to pause, racking her brain for the memory.
“I remember running.” Djinn begins, flashes of spider-like monsters dancing through her mind, “Things were chasing me, and then…” That didn’t seem right, “A woman?”
“A woman?”
“She reached out to me, but then…” Djinn trails off, her memory blank from that moment until she awoke in the dungeon. Cassandra sighs, shaking her head.
“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Leliana nods, leaving silently while Cassandra moves closer, kneeling in front of her.
“What did happen?”
“It would be easier to show you.” The manacles drop from her wrists, but the rope remains, though they both knew it wouldn’t stop Djinn from overpowering the woman if she wanted to. Luckily for all of them, she didn’t want to. Instead, she follows the dark haired woman outside, momentarily blinded by the sun against the snow.
When she can see again, her eyes trail up to the sky, and a swear that would have her father scowling escapes her. It was as though someone had punched a hole into the heavens, a swirling mass of clouds surrounding a flashing green energy. She could make out debris floating above the mountain, and on occasion, lightning flashed through the clouds.
“We call it the Breach.” Cassandra explains, “Its a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. Its not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” Djinn had seen powerful magic before, she wasn’t too shabby at it herself, but this? It didn’t seem possible.
“An explosion can do that?”
“This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Djinn opens her mouth to speak, wanting to ask more, but before she can, blinding pain erupts from her hand in time with the flashing from the Breach. She can’t help but fall to her knees, cradling her hand to her chest as a scream escapes her. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads.” Cassandra explains, kneeling in front of her, “It is killing you.” Djinn could feel that part. “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”
“You say it may be the key…” Djinn wonders, “To doing what?”
“Closing the Breach.” Cassandra declares, “Whether that is possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours.” Djinn manages to let out a deep breath, the pain receding slightly.
“I understand.” She didn’t, not really, but the other option seemed like a super painful death.
“Then?”
“I’ll do what I can. Whatever it takes.” Cassandra nods, helping Djinn stand, and begins to lead her through the camp. From all sides, the hatred on the faces of the refugees and soldiers is obvious.
“They have decided your guilt, they need it.” Cassandra explains, “The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia. The Conclave was hers. A chance for peace between the mages and templars. She brought their leaders together, now they are all dead.” Djinn isn’t sure what to say, instead, she keeps her head down, and follows the woman. Ahead, two soldiers stand on either side of the gate, their glares burning into Djinn’s skin. “We lash out, like the sky.” Cassandra continues, leading her through the gate as its opened. “But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the Breach is sealed.” As the gates close behind them, Cassandra turns, a knife in her hand. Djinn’s heart stuttered for a second, she was defenseless. Casting a spell would likely injure them both and probably the soldiers nearby, plus there was no way of knowing what this Mark would do to her magic. She takes half a step back, but the knife doesn’t aim for her heart, instead, Cassandra slices through the ropes with ease. “There will be a trial, I can promise no more. Come. It is not far.” Djinn finally lets out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Where are you taking me?” Djinn wonders, following the woman still, now rubbing at the abrasions on her wrists.
“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.” Cassandra offers no further explanation, simply walking forward with confidence. The bridge they’re on is bustling with people, a Chantry sister leads soldiers in a prayer. Refugees help tend to the wounded. Several wrapped corpses are lined up against the wall. Djinn’s heart breaks a little at the sight. She couldn’t even remember what had happened at the Temple, who's to say she didn’t have some part in causing all of this. “Open the gate. We are heading into the valley!”
A soldier runs towards them as they begin the trek up the hill, blood streaming down his face as he screams about the end of the world. The lightning from the Breach strikes, shaking the very ground. Her mark shrieks again, the pain knocking the wind from her chest as she hits the ground. She wanted to vomit, the pain was too much. All the training and fighting she had done before was for nothing.
“The pulses are coming faster now.” Cassandra jogs over, helping Djinn pull herself back to her feet. She was dizzy, her mouth was starting to taste like bile and blood. “The larger the Breach goes, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.” That seemed like an apt conclusion in Djinn’s fuzzy mind. She wanted to curl into a ball and nap, but she knew that wasn’t possible. Swallowing her pain, she nods, letting Cassandra continue to lead her up the mountain.
“How did I survive the blast?” Djinn finds herself wondering aloud. Cassandra hesitates for a moment, glancing back at Djinn over her shoulder.
“They say you…stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious.” She begins, “They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything further in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.” A second bridge awaits them, soldiers running back and forth along it, trying to deal with the absolute calamity around them. Cassandra doesn’t break stride, her confidence a little inspiring to the still reeling Qunari.
Then the bridge explodes.
Well, it wasn’t the bridge alone. Something, likely spit from the Breach, hits the bricks when Cassandra and Djinn are little more than halfway across, sending them both tumbling down to the icy river below. If she had had anything in her stomach, she definitely would have thrown it all up at this point. She barely has the chance to get her bearings when another piece of something falls from the sky, this time bringing with it a green specter. Cassandra pulls her sword, shield at the ready. Djinn was a little jealous of her reflexes.
“Stay behind me.” Djinn wasn’t going to argue. She was still unsteady on her feet and didn’t trust herself not to blow them both up without a staff. She instead stumbles back, only to find herself face to face with another green spirit. Unlucky. Her mother’s voice whispers in her ears.
“Fuck.” She manages to breathe, frantically searching for something to use as a weapon. She’d take a stick at this point, at least it would channel her magic. What she finds instead is a staff, a proper one, leaning against a nearby crate. She hadn’t seen any mages on the bridge, but she wasn’t about to question it. She can feel the magic humming the second she wraps her hand around the wood. It takes little more than a thought to summon the lightning to blast the spirit away. Cassandra is still surrounded, her sword somehow doing damage to the incorporeal beings. Djinn debates, only for a second, about leaving the woman and running, but her conscience gets the better of her.
Her regret then, when after the shades are defeated and Cassandra spins on her with her sword still drawn, is instant.
“Drop your weapon!” She orders. Djinn once again debates herself. If she wanted to, she could blast Cassandra to kingdom come, that metal armor of hers would likely conduct lightning far too well for her health. Instead, she opens her hand, letting the wood clatter onto the ice.
“Alright, have it your way.” Cassandra’s face softens and she shakes her head, slamming her sword back into its sheath.
“I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to remain defenseless.” She lets out a deep sigh, “I should remember that you agreed to come willingly. Keep the staff, Maker knows what we may face out here.”
“Thank you.” Djinn feels better with the staff in hand, more herself, more secure.
The path Cassandra leads her on is wrought with demons, though the pair of them make quick work of the fights.
“They’re falling from the Breach.” Djinn realizes after far too long. “It really is a hole into the Fade.” She probably looked foolish, stupid even, but Cassandra opts not to comment, a fact for which Djinn was grateful. As they draw closer to a set of stairs, Djinn can feel the hum in the air. Someone else was using magic. Somehow, it didn’t make her feel better.
“We’re getting close to the rift; you can hear the fighting.” Cassandra comments.
“Who is fighting?”
“You’ll see soon. We must help them.” She takes off, up the stairs. Djinn has to do her best not to sigh as she follows.
Them, as it turns out, were quite an interesting group; a dwarven man wielding a crossbow nearly as long as he was tall, a gangly bald elf mage, and two human soldiers. If that wasn’t enough of a reason for Djinn to turn around and go back to sleep, hanging in the sky above them was a small puncture. A wound leaking green light, the same green light that seemed to eek from Djinn’s palm. A tear in the Veil, where the Fade was leaking through, spitting demons at the gathered fighters. Djinn had had quite enough for one day, yet the day was still young, and someone had to fight the demons. As her lightning splits the last one, its essence drifting back to the rift in the sky, the elf runs towards her.
“Quickly, before more come through!” He grabs her hand, the glowing one, and lifts it towards the rift. A tug pulls at her bones, before green light pours from her palm, shooting into the Veil’s wound. With a deafening crack, the rip in the sky folds in on itself, closing in a shower of green energy. Letting go of her, the elf steps away, observing the sky where the mark had just been. Djinn stares at her hand, the mark hadn’t changed, but it felt different, less painful, if only by a fraction.
“What did you do?” She wonders, to which the elf merely shakes his head.
“I did nothing. The credit is yours.”
“I closed that thing?” He nods, “How?”
“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake- and it seems I was correct.” There’s the ghost of a smirk on his face. If he was trying to hide how proud he was of himself, he wasn’t doing too terrible of a job.
“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” Cassandra adds. The smirk vanishes from the elf’s face when he looks over at her.
“Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” Djinn doesn’t find comfort in his smile.
“Good to know!” The dwarf interjects, saving Djinn from having to reply, “And here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” He offers Djinn a grin as he steps forward, slinging his crossbow onto his back. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.” He winks over at Cassandra, who makes a noise of disgust as she walks away.
“Djinn Adaar, mage.”
“Interesting.”
“Are you with the Chantry?” Behind her, the elf chuckles.
“Was that a serious question?”
“Technically, I am a prisoner, just like you.” Varric admits.
“I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.” Cassandra inputs, arms crossed over her chest. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Varric and Cassandra didn’t like each other. Djinn felt the sudden urge to break the tension.
“Nice crossbow.” Varric’s face lights up at the compliment.
“Isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together.” He sighs dreamily. Djinn can’t help the snort that escapes.
“You named your crossbow Bianca?” Surprisingly, Varric doesn’t seem bothered by her laughter, his grin only growing.
“Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley.”
“Absolutely not.” Cassandra interjects immediately, “Your help is appreciated, Varric-”
“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” Varric challengers, “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Djinn isn’t sure if its the statement, or Varric’s shit-eating grin that has Cassandra making another noise of disgust.
“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” The elf steps forward slightly, “I am pleased to see you still live.”
“He means ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’” Varric translates.
“You seem to know a great deal about all this.” Djinn can’t help the twinge of suspicion that flares up.
“Solas is an apostate, like you.”
“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra.” Solas reminds the woman, then turns back to Djinn, seemingly delighted to explain his knowledge. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.” He seemed to be speaking plainly, intelligently as well.
“Commendable attitude.” Djinn nods. Solas lets out another chuckle.
“Merely a sensible one. Though it seems sense is in short supply these days.”
“I owe you a great deal of thanks, Solas.”
“Thank me later, if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.” Djinn tries not to let her heart race at the thought of her own impending demise.
“How did you…do that? Keep me alive, that is?” She finds herself wondering.
“Healing magic and minor wards.” It made sense, as a fellow mage she should have known that much, “But I fear your mark is now past the point where those can help you.” And there he was again, reminding her that she was probably going to die. She was getting a little sick of the thought.
“Well, I can’t close the Breach if I’m dead.” She huffs, clenching her staff a little tighter.
“That is certainly true.” He offers her a small bow of the head, then turns to Cassandra, who had been speaking to one of the soldiers. “Cassandra, you should know. The magic involved here is unlike any I have seen before. Miss Adaar is a mage, yes, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having this sort of power.”
“I understand.” Cassandra glances over at Djinn, then nods, “We need to get to the forward camp.” Without another word, she turns and begins making her way up the path.
“Well, Bianca’s excited.” Varric grins as he follows after.
“The road is blocked.” Cassandra reports, “We’ll head down the bank, onto the river and catch the trail a ways up the path.”
“We’ll have to move quickly.” Solas adds.
“Forward march.” Djinn sighs, gesturing for Cassandra to lead the way.
“So.” It only takes Varric a few minutes before he’s matched pace with Djinn, obviously wanting to stay far away from Cassandra. “We had some Qunari in Kirkwall. A whole boatload of them. The typical cheerless type, tried to kill everyone and take over the city.”
“The Qun tends to do that.” Djinn sighs, “Part of the reason my parents left it.”
“See I figured you just weren’t quoting the Prophet Kolsun to keep the Seeker on your good side.” Varric jokes, earning a snort of laughter from Djinn. Cassandra glares at them from over her shoulder.
“I don’t think I could quote the Prophet.” She admits, “Wouldn’t want to anyhow.” High above, the Breach flashes, and Djinn’s vision blurs from the sudden burst of pain. A hiss and curse escape her as she stumbles.
“Oh shit, you alright?” Varric reaches out, like he wants to steady her, but doesn’t quite touch her.
“Its not much further now.” Cassandra calls.
“I’ll be fine.” Djinn hisses through gritted teeth. She doubts they believe her, but right now denial was all she had. Cassandra seems to take her at her word, nodding curtly before continuing to move.
“So, you are innocent, right?” Varric tries to continue the conversation.
“I honestly don’t remember what happened.”
“That’ll get you every time. Should’ve spun a story.”
“That’s what you would have done.” Cassandra spits, though she doesn’t stop moving.
“It’s more believable.” He shrugs, then drops his voice for only Djinn to hear, “Less prone for premature execution.” Djinn decides then that she’d like to keep Varric around a while longer, he was good at making people laugh. If she survived, she figured she’d need someone like that.
Silence falls back over the group, Cassandra in the front, and Varric and Djinn in the back. Solas was a few paces in front of them, wrapped up in his own thoughts. All around them fires burned, bodies were half buried in the snow. If the Veil hadn’t been thin here before, it surely would be now.
“I hope Leliana made it through this.” Cassandra sighs as they come upon another group of fallen soldiers.
“She’s resourceful, Seeker.” Varric, shockingly, tries to assure her.
“We’ll find out at the forward camp.” Solas finally speaks, “We’re almost there.”
Unlucky. The word floats through her head again as they reach another rift, this one located right in front of a gate they needed to get through.
“Unlucky, indeed.” Djinn sighs.