Free the Earth and Sky

“Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come”.

It was the singing that woke her this time. It said a lot about her life that singing was more disorienting to her than explosions. She drifted on the edge of sleep for a time, lost in the song without really hearing the words, only the tone. It had been so long since she'd had the luxury of a slow wakening that she didn't question the feeling too closely. Another voice joined the first, and the words of the song touched something deep in her.

“The Shepherd lost and his home is far, keep to the stars, the dawn will come.”

Lost. She was so very lost here in this strange place. And her home, her ship, was light-years away. The last she had seen of the Normandy was when Joker had managed a pickup of her squad after Garrus and Ash had been injured by that damn Mako. The look of despair on Garrus’ face, not for himself, but for her, had almost broken her resolve. They both had known that the beam was a one way ticket. That it was one suicide mission she wouldn't be coming back from. She had been going to her death, but at least she had the hope that Garrus and the rest had lived.

“Bare your blade, and raise it high. Stand your ground, the dawn will come.”

Shepard had gone willingly, unflinching into that beam. She was an Alliance marine and she knew her duty. Had known since she was a teenager, standing next to her mother as her father, one of the first N7s, was laid to rest in hallowed ground. And yet somehow, she had cheated death once more. Fleetingly she wondered if this was how the rest of her life would go, forever being pulled from the edge of death into yet another war, another hopeless cause.

“The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come”

She turned onto her side, trying to locate the singers. When she found them, a cold shiver crept up her spine. A short, stocky woman, about the height of a volus, stood in front of a crowd of humans, all kneeling before her. The look of total devotion and trust of their faces was rather disquieting to Shepard. She had seen that same look on Conrad Verner's face every time he looked at her. No, it was more than trust or hope, it was borderline worship. Crap, I'm stuck in camp full of religious fanatics. She hated fanatics. They believed too much, and once they chose their belief, there cause, be it political, religious or a certain lifestyle, they stopped looking for answers outside of that belief. True believers were dangerous and Shepard tried to avoid them at all costs.

The short woman didn't look all that happy to be the focus of such devotion either, for which Shepard gave her full credit. She knew from experience how fickle public opinion could be. One day you were humanity's golden girl, and the next you were sitting in the brig for six months while the media tore your life apart.

Shepard turned her attention to the camp around her. She was lying on a mound of blankets and what felt like actual, real, honest, came from a living animal, furs. There was a brown canvas tent sheltering her, and she could see at least five more from her view out the open tent flap. She could also make out a central fire, where the crowd was dispersing back to their own tents and whatever tasks required their attention. The short woman had also left the fire, following after the medic that had tended to her earlier in the church. What was his name? She was certain he had told her, or maybe she had overheard it?

"Awake are you? And here I thought you would take this chance to catch up on your beauty sleep." It was the man from the church square, the one with the silly facial hair. He crouched down next to her, studying her as thoroughly as she was studying him. "I must say that you're looking better, not quite so pale." He gave her a charming smile, one that almost hid the intelligence lurking behind his dark hazel eyes.

"I wasn't at my best at the church." Shepard narrowed her own gray-green eyes at him. "Why do I remember you touching the back of my head just before I passed out?"

"I just a memorable sort of fellow" he waggled his brows at her, causing Shepard to let out a short bark of laughter. "Ah, but where are my manners." Rising to his feet he gave her an elaborate bow, "Dorian of house Pavus, most recently of Minrathous, at your service my lady."

Shepard started to struggle to her feet to return the greeting, but he stalled her. "None of that now. I'm under orders from the healers to keep you off your feet." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just go along with it. That way I don't have to do any of those ghastly chores the Revered Mother keeps handing out."

She settled herself more comfortably on the furs and blankets before extending her hand towards him. "Kyleen Shepard, of the Normandy." She was more than a little startled when instead of shaking her hand; he kissed the back of it. "And if you don't mind me asking, where the hell am I?"

"Well my lovely Kyleen, that's a question that we are all asking ourselves." He sighed and gestured to the open tent flap. "At the moment, the only thing I can tell you is somewhere in the Frostback Mountains between Feraldan and Orlais."

"Just Shepard will do. And while I appreciate the information, it’s not quite what I was looking for. I meant what planet are we on? Which system are we in? And where's the nearest mass relay located at?"

He looked at her for a moment, then slapped his hand against her forehead. There was a quick pulse of light, and a slight tingling sensation that spread from her head down to her toes and back up again.

"What the hell did you just do?" Shepard jerked away from him, scowling darkly. She'd had far too many beings poke around inside her head over the last few years for her to be comfortable with yet another person doing just that without even asking her first.

"Just a simple diagnostic scan, I just wanted to check your condition, as you seem to have misplaced you wits. Any third level apprentice can do one. "

"But what did you scan me with? I didn't see any sign of an Omni-tool?" Her scowl faded into a thoughtful frown. "For that matter how the hell am I still alive?"

"To answer the latter question you'll have to ask someone other than my august self. I only recently joined this delightful party. As to the former, I used my magic of course. Being a terrible Tevinter blood mage means that I like using my magic on unsuspecting women, and men, so that they will bow to my every whim!" He winked at her from his nest of furs.

Shepard just raised one eyebrow at him. "You like provoking people don't you?"

"My dearest Shepard, it’s what I do best!"

She couldn't help her answering grin. Shepard decided that she liked this man, with his drama and flare. She wasn't sure she trusted him, but she did like him.

"Now I have a question for you. How did you suspend those men in the air during the fight? They made the most excellent targets by the way."

"Singularity." At his baffled look she explained further. "It’s a sphere of dark energy that traps and dangles any enemies or items caught in its radius of effect." He just continued to stare at her as if she was speaking gibberish. "It's one of the primary attacks of an Adept."

"What in bloody blazes is an adept? Is that what mages are called in your country?"

Shepard just stared at him, puzzled by his use of "mages." That had been what Threnn had called her, so maybe that was just what they called biotics here. She shrugged mentally, chalking it up to 'strange local customs' and continued with her conversation. "Adepts are biotic specialists, capable of disabling and killing enemies with raw biotic power. That’s my own specialization, though I’ve added to my abilities over the last few years.” Her smile became bitter, her eyes focusing on something only she could see. “War tends to do that. You either evolve, or you die. And apparently I’m no good at dying.”

Before Dorian could respond to Shepard's bitter remark, the kid from the church yard materialized in front of her. "No, no, no, no, no. You mustn't die. The emptiness is not here, not now." He crouched down in front of her, angling his head to meet her eyes from under the brim of his hat. "You promised him you would come back. You can't leave now. You can't!"

Cautiously, Shepard put hands on the kid's shoulders, keeping her voice calm and soothing. "I'm not going to die. At least not right this instant. Someday I will, everything dies eventually, but not now. So just calm down alright."

Slowly the tension drained away from the kid's bony frame. The frantic glint left his bright blue eyes, and he eased back away from her. Shepard let him go. He was like a varren that had been kicked one too many times, and was now wary of any hand stretched out towards him.

"I'm not like Urz. No one made me fight in a pit. I'm not like Jack either. She's better now. You helped make the darkness less dark."

"What the hell?!" She turned his face so that she could see his eye again. "Who are you kid?" Eyes narrowed. "What are you?"

He smiled at her. It was a shy, hopeful smile, and a little of the cold his words had caused melted under that look. "I'm Cole. I help people." His eyes and voice became distant as he continued. ""Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes heal patients. Sometimes execute dangerous people. Either way helps."" His eyes focused on her again. "I liked Mordin. He understood. He helped." Cole's smile faded and he awkwardly patted her shoulder. "He was happy when he died. He fixed his mistake. Don't be sad."

Shepard stared at him, this strange boy who knew things he had no business knowing. "Cole how do you know that? How can you know that? Mordin died over a year ago."

"I help the hurt. He's pain called to me." He's gaunt face gained a mournful cast. "He couldn't hear me very well. His mind was too busy, always thinking, planning, analyzing."

"Yeah, Mordin was like that."

He gave her a bright smile, "He was so bright, but the dark threatened to consume him whole. You helped him keep his light." His face became solemn again, focused on her with an intensity that she had rarely seen in one so young. "You're like that too. So very bright. With hidden hurts and secret shadows. The beacon calls out even as it sleeps. Whispers of a dead race creep through your thoughts, dreams, memories. But under all that it's you. Your light called them, brought them together. You bind, shelter, hold them fast. The immovable center. A place a person can stop, and catch her breath."

With that he vanished again. Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. "Damn it. I don't need this right now. I'll have to put a bell on that kid. Kasumi was bad enough, I don't need a second one."

Dorian cleared his throat. "Well that was, well, different." He looked at her, curiosity plain in his gaze. "Dare I ask what that was all about?"

"You can ask, but I'm not going to answer. Not right now."

"Ah, I think I understand." He climbed to his feet, pulling one of the furs after him. How he managed to bow gracefully with the fur wrapped around his shoulders, Shepard would never know. "Serah Shepard, I'll see if can't find you something to eat. So until tomorrow, I bid you good eve."

"Good night Dorian. And thanks" she paused "for everything."