A New Hope
The onslaught seemed never ending. Solas and Varric had fought their way through throngs of demons until they encountered a rift, joining the soldiers fighting there. Just as soon as they had defeated the corrupted spirits more had been pulled through. Shrieking terrors attacked them with long razor-sharp claws, hunched over onto themselves with backs bent as though under some great strain. Demons whose form took a wispy, humanoid shape attacked them from afar, a relentless barrage of hissing energy. Solas was unsure how long they had been fighting, but fear gnawed at his gut. Varric would soon run out of bolts, and he could not drive off the remaining demons himself. Glancing around, he realized with a sense of near panic that out of the dozen or so soldiers they had joined, only two remained fighting alongside them. The others lay crumpled in the blood-splattered snow. This was madness- there was no other word for it. How could he possibly hope to solve the Breach when he couldn't close a simple rift in the Fade? He was about to call a retreat when a sizzle of energy shot past his face, striking a demon that had tried to sneak up on him while his attention was elsewhere. He turned to see where it had come from when suddenly Cassandra rushed past him, and he felt rather than saw the mage that settled in beside him, both of them focused on eradicating the latest wave of enemies. When the last one fell he turned towards the mage, to warn them that more enemies would spawn, and that they fought a losing battle. But before he could speak his attention was caught by a flash of green, and two thoughts simultaneously rushed through his mind.
The prisoner
and
The mark!
Without thinking he reached out and seized her wrist, forcing it upwards towards the sky.
"Quickly! Before more come through!"
The mark surged, and the power he had channeled through his hand and into hers was flung back into him as the magic of the anchor arced towards the rift, sealing it shut with an explosion of light that left his ears ringing and the air smelling of ozone. He didn't realize that he was still holding onto the woman's wrist until it was forcefully snatched away.
She still wore the hood, and in the light of day he could see that it was embroidered along the edges with some sort of Dalish design. Peering within, he was accosted by pale eyes the color of...what, exactly? They were almost white, or gray, or maybe a pale green color, shifting like a mirror. Those eyes bore into him with equal parts confusion and hesitance.
"What did you do?"
Her voice was soft, trembling with thinly veiled exhaustion. Solas blinked, recovering quickly as he answered her. He hoped that she hadn't noticed that he had been staring. He had not seen eyes like that before, and when they were turned upon him he had the uncomfortable feeling that she was seeing through him. They hadn't been that color in the Fade. In the Fade they had been a bright, glowing green, the color of the mark's power as it coursed through her, blinding…
He shook his head. "I did nothing. That mark upon your hand sealed the rift that produced the demons."
She questioned him about the mark, and he answered truthfully, omitting any parts that may arouse suspicion on the parts of those gathered. His mind wandered as she was introduced to Varric and their plans for continuing onward were made. He tried not to dwell upon his dream. This was the woman that he had seen, of that he was sure. And she literally held the key to their salvation in the palm of her hand. His power, though how it got there he could not guess. That something had gone wrong was a given, but the fact that she was in possession of his power and not Corypheus was a small silver lining on a black cloud of misfortune. He thought back to his plans for recovering the energy locked within the orb. His initial designs were foiled, to be sure, but...
He peered at the elven woman out of the corner of his eye. The crackling green of the mark cast a bright, eerie light upon her tunic as she walked, the glowing force of it only a few steps away.
Maybe...there was still hope.
The group made its way towards the burning remains of the Temple, through the mountain pass. The prisoner- Lira, she had called herself, had insisted upon trying to save any scouts left upon that path, though none of them could be certain as to what they may find there. Solas watched her as they made their way along the mountain. The tells were small, but there. The way she leaned just a little too heavily upon her staff. How she swayed a little on her feet when the fighting stopped. And when they reached the forward camp she had grabbed at an offered water skin like a lifeline, draining it dry in one long gulp. The woman was exhausted- when was the last time she had been given food or drink? Uncertainty started to creep into his thoughts. When the time came, would she be able to do what was asked of her?
He was in this solemn state of mind when they finally reached the temple. Once there she had stilled, and any doubts that Solas may have had about her innocence in the events at the Conclave evaporated as soon as he saw the horror written across her face. Burnt corpses littered the landscape, and she approached one of them hesitantly, dropping to her knees in front of it and reaching out with a shaking hand, stopping short of actually touching the face frozen in a silent scream, burnt skin pulled taut across blackened bone. She stood, reeling, barely listening to Cassandra as she explained how the elf had stumbled out of the rift, a ghostly woman appearing behind her in the Fade. They picked their way through the ruins, and it did not escape Solas's attention when Lira's hand darted up to her hood to quickly wipe away the tears there. If the others noticed they did not comment on it, they themselves having fallen silent in the wake of such carnage. One could scarcely step over the rubble without feeling charred bones crumble underfoot, and their mission was too important for them to linger and lament the loss of life here, not if they wanted to prevent any more of it.
Cassandra led them towards the rift marking the epicenter of the explosion. Long green tendrils of light flickered between it and the sky.
"Leliana," Cassandra addressed the woman approaching them, "Have your men take up positions around the temple." Solas regarded the spymaster with interest. From the information he had been able to gather since arriving in Haven, she and Cassandra had been acting hands of the woman Justinia, acting Divine and head of the Chantry. Powerful positions indeed. He knew the mannerisms of a spy, and had seen a fair few in his time in Haven. That they reported to Leliana was a given.
The spymaster headed towards a group of soldiers and began issuing orders. Solas redirected his attention towards Cassandra. She stood staring at the rift, jagged edges undulating with no apparent pattern.
"How do we stop this thing?" asked Lira, eyes fixated on the Breach.
"This rift is the key. Close it and it may close the Breach in the sky as well." As Solas said those words Lira turned to him, and he found himself subjected to her inscrutable gaze once more.
"Then let's go," decided Cassandra. "We have no time to waste."
The group took a side path towards the seat of the explosion, picking their way delicately through the rubble. Crystalline spires jutted out of the mountainside, glowing an ominous red. Seeing them, Varric stopped short.
"Seeker, that's red lyrium."
"I know, Varric."
"But what is it DOING here?"
Solas approached one of the spires, examining it. "Magic misplaced by the explosion could have corrupted lyrium beneath the temple, drawing it towards the surface. Though that is my best guess, I could not say with certainty what could cause lyrium to manifest itself in such a way."
Varric grabbed at his hand, before he had a chance to raise it towards the crystalline protrusions. "It's evil. Whatever you do, don't touch it." One look at the dwarf's face and Solas knew it would be smart to heed his warning.
Suddenly voices resounded amongst the rubble, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once. One masculine,deep and booming. The other was a woman's voice, thick with a heavy Orlesian accent, begging for help. As they neared the rift the mark upon Lira's hand began to glow, shaking her entire arm with the force of its vibrations. The rift above their heads reacted to it, energy arcing between the two points, until the rift itself shuddered into a swirling mass of color.
A grim tableau of the events preceeding the Breach appeared before them. Two figures were projected in the air. One of them was a menacing mass of shadow, and it towered over the other, a woman, like a viper waiting to strike. The woman was held by glowing bonds, crying for help. All at once a vision of Lira appeared, and the woman called out to her to warn the others. The scene vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
The Seeker marched towards Lira and grabbed her arm, spinning her around as she bombarded her with questions. "You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?"
"I…. I don't remember," said Lira, eyes wide, almost panicked.
Now is not the time, thought Solas. His eyes turned towards the Breach. There was only one priority here. Anything else would have to wait.
"Now, like you did before!" he shouted towards Lira. "Open it now!"
She closed her eyes and extended a shaking hand. Energy poured into the rift and it burst open, a huge shape falling to the ground and hitting with enough force to almost knock them from their feet. The figure stood, and as the green faded from its skin the true terror of its appearance began to take shape. The creature was a massive amalgamation of blue scaly skin, claws as long as a man's forearm and sharper than any sword, and six red eyes, eyes that were instantly drawn to Solas as the creature drew itself up to its full height. The deep reverberating chuckle that resonated from within its chest was meant for him, he knew, for who else in this world had ever possessed more fatally destructive pride than himself?
The creature ambled towards him, taking its time. He cast furiously, drawing on all of his energy as he tried to distract it from the fighters hacking almost uselessly at its heels. His spells bounced off of the demon, a thin shining barrier barring it from any incoming projectiles, and Solas had to leap out of the way as it lashed out at him with a whip seemingly formed of lightning. He danced around his foe, breaking a sweat as he realized that the demon was toying with him, like a bored housecat with a mouse. Out of the corner of his eye he saw other demons erupting from the rift, and a soldier fell, neck spurting blood onto the flagstones below him as the demon who felled him headed after another of the warriors.
Too late did Solas realize that the demon had him cornered, and he cast a barrier around himself just as the pride demon reared back, a crackling ball of energy held in the palm of one giant, clawed hand. He braced for impact but it never came, and when he opened his eyes the demon was on its hands and knees, stunned. Glancing beyond it, he could see Lira, face screwed tight in concentration, pulling at the rift with all of her might. The disruption had the demons dazed, swaying lifelessly for a moment, and in that instant the tide of the battle began to turn. Soldiers attacked with renewed vigor, slaying the demons almost effortlessly. The effect didn't last, but it was enough. The remaining demons were easily overcome, and Solas could see wounds along the pride demon's flank where a battered Cassandra had been hacking into it while it lay prone on the ground, her face an image of grim determination. The demon righted itself and turned towards her, its anger palpable as it unfurled a long whip of lightning, the sparks of it skittering across the ground where it landed. But before it could act, a shard of ice sailed straight for its face and the creature howled, the sound drowning out all others as it clawed at its eyes. When the demon raised its head Solas could see the shard of ice protruding from one eye, dark ichor flowing down its face from the gushing wound.
"YOU!"
The demon turned towards the sound, and there stood Lira, staff pointed directly at the demon, her lips pulled back in a feral snarl.
"Na din'an sahlin!!!"
The demon howled in fury and charged at her, but she was waiting. A split second before it crashed into her she leapt nimbly aside, and it crashed into the wall, bricks tumbling and dust billowing from the collapsing structure. Solas gave it everything he had, and without the barrier provided by the rift his attacks hit home, scorching the demon as it screamed in fury, its scales turning black as its flesh burned. Lira jumped around, evading the demon with an agility he would not have thought her capable of, though he himself was running solely on pure adrenaline at that point. The creature was weakening, and in its fury it became merciless, sweeping its arms in wide arcs that crushed any soldiers too slow to move out of its path. One such unfortunate was flung into Lira as she darted back, knocking her to the ground. She had barely enough time to flinch as the demon lunged at her, its bloodied face screaming in darkest rage right before a crossbow bolt caught it between the eyes. The pride demon staggered for only an instant before its body evaporated into green light and was pulled back into the rift.
Lira scrambled forward on hands and knees, clambering shakily to her feet and raising her hand skyward. The rift responded, and the flow of power between her and it was huge, more than three times the size of what the other rifts had been. She reached up with her free hand and tried to steady her forearm as it shook wildly from the strain, the blinding glow forcing her to turn her head away. It became too much, and Solas had to shield his own eyes from the glare. The entire world was white, and in the moment that the energy exploded outwards from the rift, causing such a massive boom that everyone present heard ringing in their ears through the next day, he found himself wondering if any of them would survive.
But survive they did, and as the glare diminished and his eyes adjusted, a lone figure stood in the epicenter. Lira, hand still outstretched towards the receding light of the Breach.
The rift was gone.
A great cheer went up as she lowered her arm, and she looked as though she was turning towards them but in reality she was falling, unconscious before she even hit the ground. Cassandra was the first to reach her, and Solas quickly after. He felt for a pulse, heart in his throat, as the Seeker called out orders for a stretcher and any available healers. In that moment she looked just as she had when he first saw her; hanging on by a thread and completely unresponsive to any attempts to waken her. But she had a pulse, and the mark was stable.
For the second time that day Solas let himself hope for something to end up alright.