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Herja grimaced as she secured the last belt on her boots, a sigh escaping her as she stood upright and did one last check over of her gear. Today’s expedition was with Emmrich and Bellara to the Crossroads, as Bel had found a promising Fade anomaly that may lead them to another of Solas’ memories. Anything that could give them some kind of leverage over the trickster god was imperative but… She dreaded going into the Crossroads.
The chance to explore such unusual portions of the Fade was an opportunity that any Mourn Watcher worth their oaths would cherish, and Herja was no different. Well, perhaps that was inaccurate; she was incredibly different from the average Watcher in that she was dwarven. Thus, despite it being the central focus of her life the Fade was just a theory in a book for her, words in a foreign tongue she scribbled into her notes without understanding. The nuances, the subtlety, the intuitive knowledge of the Fade were all hidden and she was left grasping in the darkness.
Now through magical means she’s been thrust into the Fade, an experience she never thought she would be privileged enough to experience. At the Lighthouse it was disorienting at times, the constant churn of the sky above the floating islands making her nauseous if she stared out into the expanse too long. And of course she knew that there were odd ruins that drifted through the sky like brick and mortar jellyfish but no scribbled note could compare to witnessing it. It was scary to think what would happen to anyone if they just, jumped out. Would she join those forgotten buildings, another broken object to be added to the Fade's collection?
For the first time, she understood Orzammar dwarves’ apprehension with the sky.
But these were concerns that everyone encountering the Fade were aware of; disorientation, unusual beings or occurrences, and other strange phenomena. What none of her extensive education could prepare her for the visceral feel of it. The odd, invisible pressure she could feel throughout her body if she wavered in focus, the force of which made her head throb. It wasn’t so bad at the Lighthouse but the Crossroads…
Depending on the part of the Crossroads they’re in it gets slightly better, but mostly it just gets worse. That pressure feeling remains, only intensified and enhanced with pains like tiny licks of flame driving themselves into her joints, every swing of her blades or arrow fired that much harder and agonizing, the effort making her entire body shake from exertion. By the end of each trip, the overwhelming ache that coursed through her would only be exacerbated by the searing pinpricks that had been stoked into an inferno by the end of each trip.
Herja tried to ignore it, passing off any sluggishness or bad hits to being tired, or some other lame excuse that were increasingly becoming threadbare. No one else seemed to be effected like this, even her fellow dwarf Harding only had a little disorientation or sickness and then she was fine… Well physically. She hated the Fade like most of Herja’s kin, finding it completely nonsensical (true) and contradictory (also yes), so Herja reduced how often that Lace would be taken on Fade excursions. It wasn't like there weren't three Fade experts ready and excited (question mark on that descriptor for Herja herself) to explore the Crossroads.
Genuinely, she was excited for the excursion, even if she knew the aching agony that was about to overtake her would mute any joy she was about to experience. Taking a steadying breath to steel herself against the dread, she exhaled it sharply before turning to leave, walking out to the library to meet with her companions.
As if on cue, soon as the sound of the mediation room’s door reached Bellara she shot straight up, waving at Herja excitedly. “Rook! Hey, hi!” Bellara began, all the mechanical bits and bob hanging off of her pack clanging together and she moved, the chimes adding emphasis to each movement. “The Professor… Emmrich was able to pinpoint the tessellations of…"
And Bellara's explanation, something Herja would normally engage in fully, became noise against the crushing apprehension roiling through her mind. She continued through the motions, adding the appropriate acknowledgments when Bel's voice lowered and raised, nodding along, but nothing was retained.
What finally broke her out of the droning fear cycle was Emmrich's hand on her shoulder, the weight of it and his concerned expression enough of a shock to bring Herja back to the present. "Are you alright, Rook?" He asked quietly, Bellara still chatting away in the background as she secured her pack.
"Oh, I'm fine, just tired. My room's previous occupant didn't believe in the concept of beds, so..." Herja said as she gave him a half-hearted smile for show, dropping the act as she sighed. "Look, it won't be like the last time."
"If you're certain, but do be careful. I don't know what I…" Emmrich awkwardly cut himself short, pulling his hand off of her shoulder and looking away from her, "We'd do if you got hurt."
"Did you hear me?" Bellara interrupted, looking over her shoulder at them. "I mean it! Be ready, we're going to be by the Eluvians for the Hossberg Wetlands and it's super cold."
"Oh, great. My favorite." Herja groaned, squeezing her eyes shut briefly to recenter, the added variable of Fade weather squashing the stability she'd found for her nerves with Emmrich's care for her. "There's no sense in delaying the inevitable, so…" She motioned the pair toward the Eluvian room before marching forward herself.