Chapter Text
"Perhaps," Cirridwen allowed, hesitating at the door to a small room, a little fire built in the hearth while books covered shelves and a heavy desk faced the wall. She glanced about it, sharp eyes spotting letters on the desk top that made her frown a little, before continuing on.
"A fire?" Solas noted as well, while guesturing to the lit lamp brackets.
"Leiliana's scouts have been here; this is likely their doing." Cassandra dismissed, while they passed a terrifyingly deep pit to their left. Cirridwen had a terrible feeling that if she looked over the edge she wouldn't see the bottom.
Instead she followed the Seeker up the stairs, until with a shout the woman slung her sheild onto her arm and hefted it.
"Demons," Cassandra yelled and Cirridwen muttered in unison, magic pooling at the mage's finger tips.
The demons fell easily enough, and it was a relief when they made their way to the bright cold light of day. Less of a relief when they saw what waited for them. Three bodies lying in the snow flurries on the stone steps. Cirridwen sighed as she saw them. She'd hoped there'd be at least a little less death today. Varric echoed her dismay.
"Guess we found the soldiers," he said resignedly.
"That cannot be all of them!" Cassandra tried.
"How many do they travel as usually?" Cirridwen asked.
"For large parties, Leiliana favours seven."
"That leaves four."
"Then the others might be holed up somewhere ahead?" Varric asked, sounding like his hope was rallying.
"Our priority must be the breach." Solas interjected, bring a squall across their nascent parade. "Unless it is sealed soon, noone is safe."
"I'm leaving that to our bright-eyed friend here," Varric rejoined. Cirridwen set her jaw and thought longingly of warm fireplaces and elfroot tea.
It did not take long to locate the remaining scouts, another pulling tingle of a fade rift, and the dissonate thrum of demons trying to cope with the waking world. The first thing Cirridwen did on seeing the beleagured scouts was to slap down a series of barriers to keep them standing while she closed her third rift.
"Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. I don't think we could have held out much longer," admitted the breathless lieutenant as Cassandra helped her to her feet.
"Thank our prisoner, lieutenant," Cassandra admitted, turning to look over her shoulder at Cirridwen. "She insisted we come this way."
Cirridwen hobbled up to run a glowing hand across the lieutenant's side where a shade's claws had bitten through the armor. "If I can keep a few more souls living past this day, it's worth it," Cirridwen said firmly as she stitched together the wound in her makeshift patient. "You're lucky, that just missed your guts."
"The prisoner? Then you...?"
Small spirits alighted on her companions, burbling quietly among themselves as scratches, bruises and wrenched limbs all resolved themselves.
"Then you have my sincere gratitude," the woman managed. Just behind her helm Cirridwen could see she had dark eyes.
"The way into the valley behind us is clear for the moment. Go, while you still can," Cassandra instructed.
"At once," the lieutenant acknowledged before turning to her remaining companions, another scout dressed like her and a regular footman. "Quickly, let's move!" she gestured to them, the group starting back up the hill towards their fallen comrades.
Solas was looking between them and the path they had yet to take.
"The path ahead appears to be clear of demons as well," he observed. Cirridwen looked at him and then away. His bare toes were making her own feel even worse and she wondered, possible Dalish or no, how he wasn't worried about losing them to frostbite.
"Let's hurry, before that changes," Cassandra directed and Cirridwen heaved the quietest sigh she had ever managed in her life at the prospect of yet more hurrying over dirt and snow.
They had peace for all of five minutes before the dwarf started up again.
"So... holes in the Fade don't just accidentally happen, right?"
"Tears in the Veil always have a reason. Something has to make them happen," Cirridwen informed him, before Solas took up the line of thought.
"If enough magic is brought to bear, it is possible."
"But there are easier ways to make things explode," Varric pressed.
"That is true." Solas allowed.
"I doubt that the explosion and the hole were both intended to happen. One caused the other as a side-effect, though I've no idea which came first." Cirridwen opined.
"We will consider how this happened once the immediate danger is past," Cassandra interrupted, putting the kibosh on their collective mass guessing.
And then they were upon the Temple of Sacred Ashes and Cirridwen's mind stuttered.
The last time she'd seen it, it had been all rising terraces under a sweeping vaulted ceiling, warm lit candles and statues holding fire. Now it was charred remnants and... corpses. Melted twisted corpses frozen mid scream as their lives ended in a rush of fire and noise and flying debris. Her gorge rose for a moment before she closed her eyes. This was not the time. Later, alone and safe, she could allow herself to feel this. She slotted the emotions sideways, drawing up a wall not of ice but of stone. Calm, stoic, strong. For now, she must be strong.
Observing her surroundings with detachment, she noted the green veins in the rocks around them. Black, shining fingers stabbing at the breach above them. Cirridwen laid her hand on it, even as her spirits vibrated around her in anxious worry.
"You alright there, Bright-Eyes?" Varric asked. Cirridwen didn't look at him, gazing up the length of the stone.
"This is Fade rock," she told him.
"I thought it might be some freaky magic shit with the whole green veins and stuff."
"It originated in the Fade," Solas clarified, and Cirridwen turned from the rock.
"It is a combination. This place in our world. This place in the Fade." Cirridwen bit out as she kept walking. They rounded two more corners, Cirridwen managing to steadfastly ignore the burning bodies until she came to one that was unexpectedly clothed and recognisable. She stopped so quickly that Cassandra almost bumped into her.
"Are you alright?" Cassandra asked and Cirridwen shook her head.
"His name was Carth" she said lowly, approaching the corpse. The robes were singed but recognisable, the skin still on his face. It had been craggy in life, no more handsome then than it was in death, thinning hairline disguised with a close crop. "He was always good with his sheild. But useless at barriers." Small shadows were left on the walls beside his corpse, faint reminders. Cirridwen felt curiously empty even as some small part of her wailed distantly. "He was watching my students..."
"Well shit," muttered Varric even as Cassandra offered a low apology.
"They are beyond your helping now," Solas reminded her gently, and Cirridwen tore her eyes from her friend.
"You're here, thank the Maker!" called a faintly familiar voice, and Leiliana appeared around the corner, following close on their tail.