Reformation Chapter 8

Perception. Determination.

Reformation is a Dragon Age Fanfiction by "Eisen". Dragon Age belongs to Bioware.

Flames launched from the snow, ice impossibly catching alight. The mud all around Eila dried, hardened and cracked in an instant as steam shot up. She would have hissed as miniature geysers burned through her, by now, ragged tunic, had she been in a presence of mind to notice anything beyond what was in front of her.

...

"Avise and genise, coming forth from the earth as if it were the maw of a dragon."

"Keeper, what about when you make fire? Is that also like that?" Eila asks, still ever curious about these gifts that have been revealed to be a part of her.

Dashenna laughs, "No, child. My fire is weak, it is a warning, a tool…." She pauses a moment to observe the elfen child's reaction, who looks very disappointed by the response. She laughs again, a warm sound. "I am but a Keeper of Lore, Da'len. Remember the stories of Elgar'nan and the fury of the Sun - perhaps you shall one day wield its fire. A guardian of the People."

The girl, despite her age, looks sceptical, "Ha'hren, but I can't even warm felanman."

"Perhaps, then, it is the Creators' will for you to be a Keeper of Lore, as well."

…

Elgar'nan.

Eila's eyes were wide, the gold in them dancing to the spectacle before her; mouth agape. The sky has broken, the Sun's fury has returned to cleanse the world.

The demon did not even have time to scream. It went up in ash that joined the flames' upward journey.

There was a dull thwump from where she had lost track of Solas, and a shimmering blue cocoon enveloped her, cutting off the heat she had not realised was there. The sudden return to mountain-top temperatures snapped her out of the reverie and absently she ran her tongue along her now dry lips in an attempt to alleviate the irritated sensation.

Then the fire was gone.

"Did you see that, did you?!" an excited voice asked in the silence as the air cleared of the artificial fog the fire had caused. When nobody immediately answered it continued: "...nevermind." The only other sound was the thrum of the rift.

Eila found another hand shoved into her vision, surprised this time to see that it was the armoured gauntlet of the Seeker. She took it, and got hoisted to her feet so fast that she almost tipped over again. Cassandra caught her by the shoulder though, and gave her a meaningful look. "The rift. Close it before more come through."

Eila nodded dumbly, trying to remember what it was the bald elf had done. The yearning was still there. The pull of the Fade even as it poured into this world, opposed to the other. Simply hold her hand towards it? It could not be that simple. All magic was like pulling out teeth for her.

She held up her hand and tensed, expecting the same crippling pain as before. Instead, what looked like one of the tendrils that usually spawned demons whipped out and snapped to the mark in her hand. She wanted to stifle a cry, but the pain from before was absent; it was as if there were some intangible force wrapped around her forearm, linking her to the rift. She tested the linked hand. It was still stiff and aching from all the flares the Mark had gone through, but otherwise she could not say that it felt any different beyond the odd pressure surrounding it. She tried gripping the stream of energy. Her fingers wound around it, finding it warm and somewhat malleable, but not lacking purchase. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled.

The Rift unravelled. It looked like the kaleidoscopic structure that remained after the demons died, convulsing with jutting crystals that shot out, only to be sucked back in. It was being corroded by the very air into nothingness.

Eila felt the pressure around her arm disappear, then-

Agony.

She screamed as the sensation returned. Molten metal crawling up her arm. It felt like someone was holding the inside of her limb against a glowing brand while the bone creaked, hissing as it cooled into its new metal form. Drying, while still attached to her arm.

She prayed to the Creators for the release from the pain she had experienced earlier. For it to end.

It did not. Instead, her vision went dark and she knew nothing.

~o~

Varric watched as the blue bubble around him immediately blocked the searing heat. Seriously Hawke, why the fuck couldn't you share your bubble? -on second thought, don't answer that. Damn magic theory.

The flames died and he found himself in a thick fog, with the only things giving him bearings being the tree just behind him - now with a few of its needles singed, sweet scent masking the charred smell of demon remains - and the green glow ahead, indicating where the rift was.

His vision soon cleared though, as a mountain breeze pushed the vapourised water away. The first thing he did was head over to where Bianca lay, and tested to see if she was at all hot from the flames. The weapon creaked slightly as components shrunk back to their original size after expanding in the heat, but he easily picked her up again without burning himself. He breathed a sigh of relief. The snow had prevented any more scratches, and the heat...well Bianca had long since been warded against heat abuse. You know Hawke, as much as you've managed to give me grey hair over the years, sometimes your shit solves problems before they're actually there.

He only needed to find a spot to sit down so he could replace the waxed strings and work some extra lubricant into the hinges. Maybe test the loading mechanism a few times to make sure it still functioned smoothly. That would wait for when he got his resupply of ammo, though.

He was surprised to note that it was the Seeker that helped Elfy up this time. Though it made sense, considering the Nevarran probably wanted the rifts closed more than anyone else. It was a problem she could not punch, so she would do whatever would be necessary to expedite the problem going away.

The mage he assumed they had to thank for their lives was crouched under the rift, looking up at it with an enamoured expression, despite the drawn look of his features. He wore deep red robes that lacked any sleeves. Unlike what Circle mages normally wore, he had pauldrons, gauntlets and a cuirass of thick, boiled leather. While his gauntlets were very similar to how Varric recalled Hawke's looking, having the same vicious styling, the mage's pauldrons appeared as if he had used them for geological experiments on everite - the metal growing out of them in crystalline formations. He otherwise looked like he had spent his fair share of time on the road, the bottom of his robes being threadbare and dirtied and what looked like all the materials a mage would require to ply their craft being strapped to his belt. A giant tome hung at his back as if it were a pack of sorts. Varric was immediately curious whether it was only a book of spells, or if there was more to it.

The mage was pulled back by a templar who had put aside her helmet, her sandy hair tied up into a bun. The man shook her off but Varric's attention was drawn back to Elfy when he saw a tendril of green energy dance out to connect with her hand. Andraste's tits girl, you have more balls than a Templar hopped up on lyrium - touching this Fade-shit after that last one.

Despite his expectation, she did not cry out as she had before, raising his brow. She looked as surprised as he felt. Shit never just got easy. When nothing happened as the Rift started collapsing in on itself, he had almost convinced himself that nothing would go wrong. Of course, that was when it did go wrong.

Elfy screamed so loud that her voice died in the same breath. She staggered, staring at her hand in expectation, but from the tears running from her eyes it did not look like the pain abated. It gave him just enough time to run and catch her as she fell, her voice wheezing in an odd whistle just before her eyes rolled back. She was clasping her left arm to herself using her right.

The others were frozen where they stood. Many of the soldiers had readied their swords again. Fuck.

Varric snarled and wanted to march right into the encampment, but there was no way he could carry someone taller than him by so much and keep their dignity intact. Fortunately the Seeker picked up on his intentions and hoisted Elfy from him, making it look effortless. Varric just nodded to her and retrieved Bianca from where he had dropped her to catch the elf. Sorry girl. Seems I can only handle one lady at a time.

After a cursory inspection he folded in the arms and slung the crossbow around his back. Cassandra had already pushed through the splintered remains of the gate to move across the bridge. Better hurry. Damn long legs.

"Coming, Chuckles?" he asked the bald elf, who just raised an eyebrow in response. Shrugging, Varric followed after the Seeker, noting that the elf was close behind if the tap of staff on ground was any indication.

~o~

The first thing Eila became aware of was the pain. Throbbing started from her arm, moving through her whole left side with each thump of her heart. The next was how uncomfortable her position was. She groaned.

The aspect of the world changed abruptly and Eila found herself on her legs again, albeit with a strong arm wrapped around her waist. Her own was guided to drape over her bearer's shoulder. There were voices around her, arguing. At least one of them was masculine.

The first words that were spoken that resolved themselves into something coherent were by whoever was holding her up: "-order me?! You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!" She was being held up by the Seeker? That would explain the hard edges pressing into her.

"And you are a Thug, but a thug that supposedly serves the Chantry."

A voice like sharpened velvet interrupted, "We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor. As you well know."

The male voice turned tired. "Justinia is dead. We must return to Val Royeaux...elect a new Divine and obey her directive."

"No, Chancellor, we can not ask the Commander to recall his forces. They are all that is preventing the demons from flooding into the Wilds and Hinterlands."

"And what about the Prisoner?" The male asked again. "She must be turned over to the Chantry for trial."

Cassandra snorted incredulously, "Did you not just witness her close the rift here? You would be dead if not for her."

"Nobody would be dead if not for her!"

"Peace, Chancellor," the smooth voice interrupted again, ever contrasting with the Seeker's and the man's hard tones. "Until the trial, we cannot decide the Prisoner's guilt. So until then, her guilt is unimportant. We need her to close the Breach."

"Unimportant? Unimportant?! Might I remind you, Sister Nightingale, that the blood of hundreds is screaming to us for justice from that mountainside."

"That may be your opinion, Chancellor, but until such a trial as you propose, it is only your opinion." It sounded like the man was about to retort but the woman continued over his protests, "Each moment we waste debating the issue, more lives are spent in the valley's defence. Tread with care Chancellor, lest that blood demand a reckoning from you."

This seemed to silence whoever it was that the two women had been arguing with.

Eila tried to open her eyes and felt the rim of a crystal phial being held to her lips. She opened her mouth and let her head be tilted back. The substance burned across her tongue for a second, but what she did not swallow immediately vapourized inside her mouth, clearing her sinuses with a mild burning sensation. Stamina draught.

Her mind stopped for a breath, then with the suddenness of shattering ice became crystal clear. She stood up straight, the pains from all the prior events blessedly fading more and more with every breath she took.

She shivered to adjust to the sensation of second-hand energy, that feeling that would always tease at the edge of your senses that this was not real. It was the main reason she normally avoided them. She was not sure if she would be able to tell between the effects of one and a Fade Hallucination.

"We must get you to the Temple," Cassandra said by way of explanation, waving in the direction of a steep valley in the mountains ahead that was illuminated green by the breach, as well as an internal source. "The Commander's troops can help us punch through to it the quickest."

"Even with all your soldiers, you can't hope to reach the temple." Eila could now see the man arguing. He wore a tunic-like habit and a simple, black, flat-topped hat. The quality of his clothing was of a slightly higher standard than any other Chanry official she had yet seen, but beyond that, the only thing designating him as anything were the age lines on his face. It unsettling her a bit that she could have passed someone so important in the human's religious organization in the street and not have realised it. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position is hopeless."

Eila immediately saw the flaw in the Chancellor's plea. Were they to pull back, they would simply thin their lines and create a bigger front, through which they would then have to punch to get back to the Breach, to actually do something about the situation. She shook her head.

"It might be the quickest, but it is not the surest. If the forces attack and divert most of the demons, we can move in safely from the mountains." Eila recognised the woman, now that she saw her. It was the same hooded one who had been at her initial interrogation. Sister Nightingale.

"Are you even sure that the route leads to the Temple?" Cassandra asked. "Even if it does, we can't be sure that it's safe. We lost an entire scouting party there."

The hooded woman shook her head, pushing strands of orange-red hair back behind the folds of the material, "No, I've been there. It is the route we uncovered on our way back out."

The Seeker snorted a disbelieving laugh, "I still find it hard to come to terms that you were there when this place was first discovered." Cassandra seemed to think about something for a moment, then nodded, looking to Eila, "Leliana makes a good point, but how do you think we should proceed?"

"Why...why ask my opinion?" She managed after a while, trying to process through the fact that she had been asked for directive.

"You are the one with the Mark," Solas added, stating the obvious so simply that it almost felt like an insult. She was not sure how to take it.

Cassandra nodded in agreement, "You are, ultimately, the one that needs to be protected. If there is any way to make that easier…."

Eila recalled the tales of how Blights were fought. How battles had lasted for days and weeks instead of hours. She knew that Theodesian armies were prepared to face a foe like that, were trained to… but she was one of the People. They did not fight prolonged battles. They retreated to the woods and whittled down the enemy. The only time the elves had fought on a level battlefield in recent history was in the Fifth Blight ten years ago. The ones that had participated there had brought tales of horror to the Arlath'ven.

"I…the mountains." The words were hoarse, grating her ears as much as they did her throat.

"Very well," Cassandra stated curtly, turning back to the Sister Nightingale, "Leliana, gather the forces for one last push. Strike in the morning. We will hopefully have made the other side of the mountain by then."

The hooded woman nodded, before nodding to a uniformed man whose face was half covered in tattoos standing to the side observing the proceedings. He affirmed the unspoken command with a salute and marched to where the majority of the troops were recovering. Sister Nightingale then moved to speak with a hazelnut-haired elf who was giving instructions to three people dressed in muted colours.

Cassandra looked from Solas and Varric to Eila. "We shall set out as before in an hour's time. Make sure you have all the equipment you might need and get as much rest in that time as you can." With that she headed off after the man Leliana had sent off just moments ago.

"On your head be the consequences, Seeker," the Chantry man muttered as she walked past him.

Her only response was a noncommittal shift of expression at his words.

"I'll be at the gate then," Solas stated without preamble, "I shall await you there."

Varric huffed a laugh when the elf had disappeared. "Don't worry Kid. I don't plan to find some mysterious reason to vanish. I'm sure we can set you up with some decent gear, grab a bite and maybe catch a few winks before the Seeker comes bearing down on us again."