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sweetjulieapples · 4 months ago

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Dear Commander - Chapter 15: The Herald's Green Inquisition-issued Scarf

Cullen x Trevelyan

AO3 MASTERLIST

The Inquisition make their way to The Temple of Sacred Ashes to seal the breach. Cullen notices that The Herald is wearing a green scarf and proceeds to overthink that.

Full chapter below:

“And when the breach in the sky has been sealed, tell me - what happens next?”

This was the question on everyone’s mind. For most, it was a matter of duty. What jobs lie ahead after the breach and any left over rifts were done away with? What to rebuild? Where to next? For others, it was far more dire. The looming uncertainty of where to live and what purpose to have. What need has The Inquisition of hundreds of mages?

Chancellor Roderick asked the question, not out of curiosity, but of provocation. His words dripped with sarcasm, laced with condescending questioning in an attempt to provoke a reaction. The Ambassador, with all her grace, remained unfazed by his mockery. Maintaining a courteous smile and speaking with a gentle voice, Josephine responded calmly and with poise. “The Inquisition has plenty more work in Thedas, Chancellor. I do hope that The Chantry will come to see that in due time.”

“I will see that Val Royeaux puts an end to this heretical movement —”

“Roderick,” Juliette interrupted as she walked into the chantry. “It’s so lovely to see that you are working hard to do your part,” she stood at Josephine’s side and folded her arms. The ladies exchanged a subtle glance before Juliette continued, “Helping prepare to seal the breach and not getting in anyone’s way at all.” She smirked and with a sarcastic whisper added, “The Maker must be so proud.”

Roderick sneered with disgust. “Mock if you will. Your very presence is a blasphemous assault against all that is holy.”

Juliette's laugh burst forth abruptly, a harsh, cackle that seemed more of a snort than a genuine response. "That's a tad dramatic, no?" Roderick glared at her crude reaction. “It’s funny you should say that though, Chancellor,” Juliette said smugly. “I was actually sent here by Mother Giselle to fetch you. I doubt she’d appreciate waiting too long.”

He screwed up his face with frustration and snapped, “That is not what I meant and you know it.” He swiftly turned and made his way towards the exit, leaving Josephine and Juliette behind with amused smiles.

“I’m most grateful for Mother Giselle’s timing.”

“Oh, I haven’t the faintest clue where Mother Giselle is or what she’s doing. I just wanted him out of my sight,” Juliette confessed with a proud grin.

“Oh,” Josie laughed. “Very nice work, Herald.”

Juliette tilted her head to the side as they began to walk towards the war room. “Can’t you just do your thing, Josie? You know, a whisper here, rumor there…” A mischievous grin grew on Juliette’s face. “Could you start a scandal, get him booted from The Chantry?”

“Very easily,” Josephine laughed. “Believe me, I’ve thought of it more than once.”

“You have far more patience than I,” Juliette laughed. She stopped and gave Josephine a warm smile. “You’re really good at this, you know?”

“That means a lot. Thank you, Herald,” Josephine replied graciously. “I’ll be a moment longer yet but the others will be in soon. I’ll see you in the war room shortly?”

Juliette's smile widened in an exaggerated show of cheerfulness. “Oh, I’ll be there,” she said, the forced brightness in her voice not quite masking her exhaustion.

When Juliette pushed open the door to the war room, her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected sight. Cullen was leaning over the table, the soft glow of candles casting warm light and gentle shadows that highlighted the strong, chiseled lines of his features. He glanced up once hearing the door open. Their eyes locked in that instant—an electric, unspoken recognition passing between them.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as Juliette stepped inside, her steps hesitant as though she contemplated turning to run away. She could feel her cheeks flush slightly, a nervous warmth spreading through her. Cullen’s gaze, though steady, revealed a flicker of surprise and something softer, more vulnerable, before he quickly looked away to clear his throat. The silence that followed stretched out, heavy and awkward, amplifying the unspoken emotions between them.

Juliette made her way to the end of the table, her fingers grazing the map where The Western Approach was marked. Cullen offered her an awkward smile in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Tell me you haven’t been here all morning,” she said, mustering her best bravado.

Cullen, his head bowed as he flicked through reports, replied without looking up, “I haven’t been here all morning.”

Juliette’s laugh was a mixture of amusement and challenge. “Now, look at me and tell me again without lying.”

He answered with a soft chuckle, slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers. Guilt spread across his face as he admitted, “Not all morning.” Juliette narrowed her eyes and shot him a playful smirk.

“There is still much to do, however. Perhaps I should have come here earlier.”

“It will be over soon,” she said softly, a hint of sympathy in her voice.

Cullen’s expression fell, his face taking on a crestfallen look. The lines of exhaustion on his face deepened, and his shoulders drooped just a touch, as though the thought of closing the breach meant more than he was letting on.

“There will be plenty more to do moving ahead, Herald,” Cullen spoke quietly, his words laced with a touch of sadness as he busied himself and avoided eye contact.

Juliette caught the subtle shift in Cullen’s expression. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, her gaze lingering on the signs of discomfort that flickered across his face. As she looked to his eyes she began to wonder when he might have last slept. The dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his complexion spoke of fatigue. He seemed stressed—something not unusual for Cullen—but there was an added layer of unease, a sense that something was different this time.

Juliette wanted to ask if he was alright and offer her support, but the words caught in her throat. She decided it was better not to overstep and chose silence instead. She didn't want to intrude on his personal matters...again. She remembered how uncomfortable he had looked that night in the chantry when she had asked about his vows.

She observed the tightness in Cullen’s posture and the distant look in his eyes. It felt like there was a barrier between them, as though he was unapproachable. She took in a sharp breath, opening her mouth once again, only to let the words die unspoken.

The memory of their conversation in the chantry felt like a different world now, a time when laughter and lightheartedness flowed easily between them. Juliette recalled the moment when she could simply be herself, free from the weight of her title as The Herald of Andraste. The connection they shared seemed so genuine and effortless that night, a stark contrast to the distant and guarded demeanor she saw in Cullen now.

As she watched him , with his walls firmly in place, doubts crept into her mind. She wondered if their night in the chantry had been nothing more than a fleeting dream, a side effect of Adan’s potion distorting her perception. The warmth that had once sparked between them now seemed like a distant memory, obscured by the current coldness.

Juliette was distracted by a wave of uncertainty as she replayed their past interactions in her mind. The connection she had felt seemed so vivid, so real—yet now, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it might have been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. She remembered the moment clearly, that fleeting spark that had seemed to pass between them, only for Cullen to retreat soon after. His sudden departure left her feeling disoriented and questioning herself.

She wondered if she had misjudged the situation, perhaps coming across as too eager or intrusive. The lingering doubts made her second-guess whether she had somehow pushed him away. Despite these uncertainties, Juliette held on to the significance of their shared moment. Even if it was brief and ended abruptly, it was a memory that she wasn’t willing to let go of.

She closed her eyes, and with a sigh, fell back on what she knows best - self depreciating humor.

“That’s a shame,” Juliette said with a forced grin. “I was hoping to take a really long nap after I saved the world.”

Cullen’s eyes slowly lifted from their downcast position, a glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. He allowed a small, playful smirk to break through, his eyes reflecting a subtle spark of mischief. “What is it they say? ‘No rest for the wicked’?” he said, his voice carrying a gentle, teasing lilt.

Juliette let out a sudden, high-pitched giggle that echoed through the room. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she said, her voice laced with playful teasing.

Cullen responded with a soft, breathy chuckle. Before he could speak, they were interrupted by the sound of Chancellor Roderick’s voice booming from behind the door.

“Where is she?” his voice reverberated throughout the chantry, showing his irritation.

“Where is who, Chancellor?” Josephine asked, feigning ignorance.

“Trevelyan! That lying little…”

Cullen waved his hand towards the door with an amused smirk on his face. “As I was saying…”

“Oh, lovely. He’s back already,” Juliette muttered under her breath, her earlier lightheartedness giving way to a resigned sigh.

“I’ll handle it,” Cullen said with a calm, dutiful tone. His smile suggested he was more amused than bothered by the interruption. He stepped out the door and called loudly, “Chancellor! Haven’t you done enough?”

Juliette listened to the bickering unfold from behind the closed door of the war room with a faint giggle, muffled behind her hand.

“Now, now, Chancellor. Let’s be civil,” Josephine chimed in, her voice carrying a slight patronizing edge as she attempted to reason with the irate chancellor.

“I demand an answer, now!” Roderick yelled.

“Do not raise your voice at our Ambassador!” Cullen retorted, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “This is a place of worship.”

Roderick twisted his face in disgust. “Oh, don’t give me that garbage, Templar. You’re running your rebel Inquisition from here, corrupting Thedas under Andraste’s name. You should be ashamed.” He stepped closer to Cullen, his voice rising with urgency. “Now, let me through. I need a word with your so-called ‘Herald’!”

Cullen shook his head and lied, flawlessly, “She’s not here, I haven’t seen her at all today. Perhaps you should try the stables.”

Roderick's eyes narrowed as he took in Cullen's response. His expression shifted from fiery resentment to a cold, calculating suspicion. The crease between his brows deepened, and his lips pressed into a thin line, revealing his doubt.

“Really now?” Roderick said, his tone dripping with skepticism. “The stables, you say?” Roderick shot Josephine a sharp look before returning his gaze to Cullen. “Very well. I’ll check the stables,” he said as he turned on his heel with a brisk, almost exaggerated stride. “If this, too, is more deceit, you’ll be hearing of it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Cullen mumbled as Roderick slammed the chantry door shut with a resounding bang.

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension dissipating into a mix of relief and bemusement. The door to the war room slowly cracked open, revealing Juliette peeking out cautiously with a guilty grin on her face.

“Leliana should hurry herself, we need to get this war council underway before he comes back,” Cullen said, gently pushing past Juliette as he moved back into the war room. She froze, as though a bolt of electricity had shot through her when his gloved hand brushed against her arm.

Cullen, now focused on the scattered reports on the table, barely noticed the effect his touch had on her. “We’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone now practical , as he shifted his attention back to the documents.

Juliette blinked rapidly before shaking herself out of her daze. “Yes, absolutely,” she said, attempting to regain her composure as she followed him into the room. The faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her efforts to appear poised.

The breach thundered and boomed far louder at the temple ruins, its noise competing against the howl of strong winds and the sickening song of the red lyrium crystals. The sky above was a tumultuous swirl of colour that seemed to mirror the chaos below.

Cullen looked down from the terrace by the temple entrance, or what was left of it. While his men assembled below as instructed, he watched with unease as debris and broken remnants of the temple’s structure floated in the air, suspended by the will of the lyrium’s force. He slowly glanced up to the sky, squinting at the light that shone down from above. Much like the breach, Cullen’s thoughts were a chaotic swirl of a mess.

Grand Enchanter Fiona led the mages into position, each group lining up along the crumbling parapets of the temple at various elevations. The explosion months earlier had left parts of the building exposed, in such a way that the structure now resembled an amphitheater.

The noise of the gathering crowd grew louder as more people arrived to fulfill their duties. All these people. If something were to go wrong...

Will the mages have sufficient control over their magic? What if the power overloads? Could it overwhelm her? What if—

Cullen’s thoughts splintered like broken glass, each shard a new worry. The crowd around him seemed to move in slow motion, their faces blurring into a backdrop of anxious noise. I should have asked her if she was ready. If she was feeling alright about all of this.

An officer stepped into his field of vision and greeted Cullen with a dutiful “Commander.”

Cullen flinched at the unexpected interruption, then forced a nod of acknowledgment as his men marched past, heading to their designated positions within the temple. He shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts, but the pressure in his mind felt like a vice tightening with every passing moment.

Not that it would matter if she was ready. It has to happen now.

He stepped closer to the edge of the terrace, peering down at the rows of soldiers below. They stood in precise lines, their uniforms immaculate and their postures rigid. They look impressive, Cullen thought, his eyes scanning the disciplined ranks. Harritt’s done an excellent job commissioning those weapons. The soldiers’ readiness seemed to contrast with the turmoil in Cullen’s mind.

But is it enough? Have I overlooked something? Are they truly prepared for what’s coming? They’ve yet to face demons. What else could escape that thing? How much power will it take to close - but what does she mean ‘It will be over soon’? There’s so much more we could — argh, that red lyrium!

Heat radiated from the lyrium crystals embedded in the walls at the entrance where Cullen stood waiting. The noise, a rhythmic, pulsing song, vibrated through his body like a heartbeat or a war drum, trying to exert its will over him. He took a few steps back, suddenly aware of the dryness in his mouth and the aches in his shoulders and legs.

Perhaps I should have said something earlier today. Did I seem too cold? I likely did. I’d hate for her to think that I wasn’t interested in speaking with her. I should have … what are they doing? Those will break!

“You there!” Cullen shouted over the howling wind, his voice barely cutting through the storm. He squinted against the stinging snow that lashed his face, the fur coat that sat atop his shoulders flapping wildly in the gale. Striding towards the nearby officer, he pointed urgently at the healers struggling with supplies down the stairs on the opposite side of the temple.

“Tell those healers to use both hands when carrying the crates, or better yet, send some men to assist them. We can not afford to damage the supplies at a time like this!”

“At your order,” the officer said with a fist raised to his chest.

Cullen folded his arms and looked to the sky once more. Every swirl of green light and thunderous crack that boomed above felt like a grain of sand slipping through an hourglass, each moment amplifying his anxious anticipation for The Herald’s arrival.

I should have asked her if she was ready. I never asked. Is she feeling alright? She must be nervous.

A sudden jolt of pain seared through Cullen’s head, as though a sharp, electrifying bolt had pierced his skull. A wave of excruciating pain surged through him, immediate and overwhelming, making him clutch at his temples. Determined not to let the routine headaches blur his focus, he fixed his gaze to the mages as they waited patiently for the ritual to begin.

That lyrium. The first thing we need to do is clear it out once this is …why did she say ‘It will be over soon’? Surely she cannot be thinking about leaving. Not now, not after —

Cullen’s eyes widened with alarm when he spotted someone veering off course. “Stop!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re going the wrong way! It’s not structurally sound—you must use the western staircase! Has your lieutenant not informed you?” His gaze was fierce, reflecting his frustration and urgency as he tried to correct the mistake before it could lead to disaster. He shook his head in disbelief.

I asked them to barricade that exit. What else could they have neglected? I should go down there, make sure everything’s in order before she arrives… No, I must wait for her. I need to talk to her—set things right. I’m distracted. I can’t let this, her, cloud my judgment. I can’t fail them. I must give—

Cullen’s thoughts abruptly halted as he caught sight of Juliette approaching the temple’s entrance. His gaze snapped toward her, and for a heartbeat, everything else seemed to fade away. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes locked onto her with an intensity that momentarily silenced the tumult in his mind.

With Cassandra by her side and Solas trailing close behind, The Herald laughed as a gust of wind swept in, embracing her with its wild energy. Her hair flew in a chaotic dance, and the fabric of her coat billowed around her. Reacting swiftly, she reached up to secure the scarf that had been draped loosely over her shoulders, her fingers gripping it tightly to prevent it from being whisked away by the gust. The scarf was green, the same hue as the fabric worn by the soldiers in their uniform. It was a vivid reminder of her role within The Inquisition.

She chose to wear that today. What could that mean?

Cullen’s stance softened, and a flicker of something—hope, anxiety, or perhaps a mixture of both—crossed his features. The stern lines of his face softened, if only for a moment, as he prepared himself to address her, his focus now solely on the figure that had captured his full attention.

“Herald,” he greeted with a firm, formal voice, his posture now rigid, with his arms folded across his chest.

As she stepped closer, he noticed the worried expression on her face. Her dark brown eyes gazed into his, revealing vulnerability and nerves that momentarily disarmed him. Cassandra, standing by her side, tapped her arm with two quick, successive taps—a silent gesture of acknowledgment, signaling their readiness to move forward without further words. With that, Cassandra and Solas began to descend the stairs, leaving Juliette behind to speak with The Commander.

As the wild wind roared around them, Juliette’s lopsided smile quickly gave way to a look of frustration, her face partially hidden by the billowing strands of her hair and the scarf she struggled to keep in place. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she squinted against the force of the wind, her attempts to shield her eyes and maintain her composure evident.

Cullen's features tightened as the wind whipped around him, the gusts pressing against his stern expression. “Are you alright? You look—” he began, but his words were swallowed by the howl of the wind. He grimaced as the wind tugged at his coat and hair, making it difficult to keep his posture steady.

“Pardon?” Juliette yelled, her voice nearly lost in the roar of the gusts. “I didn’t hear you!”

She quickly moved in closer to him, and he slightly lowered his head to make himself heard above the wind. “Are you feeling alright—”

Before he could finish, another strong gust swept Juliette’s scarf from her shoulders, causing her to release a surprised squeak. Instinctively, Cullen lunged forward, his quick reflexes allowing him to catch the scarf mid-air.

He took a moment to steady himself before turning back to Juliette, his expression softening despite the harsh conditions. He extended the scarf toward her, their hands brushing briefly as she reached for it.

The touch was brief but electric. Juliette's fingers lingered against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something deeper—an emotion she had been trying to keep hidden. Her heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze, feeling a swirl of unspoken attraction and vulnerability.

Cullen’s own eyes held a fleeting softness, a stark contrast to his usual stern demeanor. He noticed the tremor in her touch and, without thinking, placed his gloved hand over Juliette’s, as though to ensure her grip on the scarf was extra secure.

Juliette’s cheeks flushed deeply, a vivid contrast to the chill of the wind. She looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and fascination. The contact, though muted by the gloves, was still electric, sending a rush of heat through her. She quickly withdrew her hand, her heart racing as she fumbled to adjust the scarf around her neck. Even amidst the wind’s chaos and the surrounding noise, the moment they shared felt oddly quiet and serene.

Cullen stepped back and moved around the corner of the entrance, finding a small nook that offered some shelter from the wind. He drew in a deep breath, his pulse racing from the lingering of Juliette’s touch. She followed him, her gaze expectant, waiting for him to break the silence. Deciding to avoid the awkwardness of asking about her a third time, Cullen pressed forward with the conversation.

“The best of the mages are ready, Herald. Be certain that you are ready for the assault on the breach. We cannot know how you will be affected.”

“Well, that’s not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for, Cullen,” she said with a nervous laugh, glancing down at her hand. The glow from the mark was erratic, flashing and pulsating as she neared the breach. Cullen followed her gaze, their eyes meeting again. He offered her a soft, sympathetic look. “Am I shaking?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling. “I’m shaking.” She exhaled deeply, the breath coming out in an exaggerated puff as she turned away from him. “Let’s do this before I change my mind,” she said with newfound determination.

As she moved towards the stairs, the wind hit her with a fierce gust, making her cry out in surprise. “This weather!” She glanced back at Cullen with a faint smile. “Looking forward to clear skies and warmer climates.”

“Good luck, Herald,” He shouted.

“Thank you, Commander!” she called back, her voice just barely reaching his ears as she descended the stairs.

Cullen stood at the top of the stairs, his gaze lingering on the spot where Juliette had vanished. A heavy, disheartening weight settled on his chest as he watched her disappear from view.

So she is leaving.

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crowinkwriting · 2 months ago

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Tranquisitor

[Author Notes]

Chapter 3:

After sealing the next rift Olive was incredibly relieved to have finally reached the forward camp. The large doors slowly opened and Olive, along with Solas and Varric, followed behind Cassandra. As they walked through the camp Olive saw Cassandra was leading them to a table where Leliana was arguing with two other men.

Olive could tell the older man was a part of the Chantry just by the way he was dressed. However she wasn’t sure about the younger man. He was dressed in shiny white and gold guard like armor and she guessed was an archer based on the large bow he had with him. When they got closer Olive could hear what they were saying. “You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The older man argued. Both Leliana and the archer seemed pretty annoyed at this.

“I have caused trouble?” Leliana asked.

“We cannot do nothing. The Breach is still expanding.” The archer beside Leliana pointed out. His accent seemed familiar to Olive but she couldn’t quite place it.

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The man from the Chantry yelled at Leliana before turning to the archer beside her. “And you have no authority here.” He stated.

When Olive’s group got closer she noticed Varric’s expression was something between surprised and annoyed as he noticed the archer beside Leliana. “Choir boy?” Varric asked and the archer quickly turned to face them.

“Varric? What are you doing here?” The archer asked, seeming just as surprised to see them.

“I could be asking you the same question.” Varric responded. Cassandra then looked between Varric and the man he had referred to as Choir boy. “That’s Prince Sebastian?” She asked Varric. ‘Prince?’ Olive thought. So far there was a prince, a Seeker, and an apostate but Olive still hadn’t seen a single circle mage or templar.

Before Sebastian or Varric could respond Leliana had finally noticed the group. “You made it!” Leliana excitedly said before turning to the older man. “Chancellor Roderick this is-.” She started but was interrupted by the Chancellor.

“I know who she is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” The Chancellor demanded as he pointed at Olive.

“Order me? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat.” Cassandra argued, becoming just as annoyed as Leliana and Sebastian were.

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry.” The Chancellor responded. As the four continue to argue about what Olive assumed was probably political chantry matters Olive’s attention slowly drifted to the large green light in the sky. She really didn’t understand the point. Even if they did arrest her or pick a new Divine the Breach was still there and getting larger as more time passed. ‘This is all pointless.’ Olive realized.

“Shouldn’t we focus on closing the Breach?” Olive finally spoke up. The four in front of her. “You brought this on us in the first place!” The Chancellor yelled at her.

“She’s right. We still need to close the Breach.” Sebastian agreed with Olive. Cassandra then stepped forward and stood beside Sebastian at the table so she was in front of the Chancellor. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.” The Chancellor said but Cassandra ignored him. “We can stop this before it’s too late.” She stated.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.” The Chancellor asked, seeming hopeless.

“We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.” Cassandra said.

“But not the safest. Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” Leliana then suggested pointing toward the mountains.

The four continued to bicker a little longer but their arguing was interrupted by the loud sound of the Breach expanding again. Then Olive felt the pain return to her hand along with the bright green glow. Olive held her wrist in pain and watched as the glowing and pain subsided again.

“How do you think we should proceed?” Cassandra then asked her. ‘They want my opinion? I’m not even sure what’s going on.’ Olive internally panicked. As she looked at her hand she realized she may not have much longer at this rate. Even if she didn’t make it the Breach needed to be closed.

“We should charge. I may not survive long enough for your trial.” Olive finally answered. Cassandra then turned back to Leliana. “Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.” Cassandra ordered.

As Leliana began to walk away Sebastian stopped her. “I’m coming with you.” He stated.

“Shouldn’t you be with Hawke?” Varric then asked Sebastian. For a second the anchor seemed like he wanted to say something but chose not to. “That’s not important right now.” He responded before following Leliana, leaving Varric confused.

Olive and her companions then followed Cassandra as she headed through the camp. As they continued on Olive heard the Chancellor give them one last warning. “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

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Olive couldn’t help but feel nervous once she jumped from the rubble and slowly approached the large rift now above her and the glow from her hand returned again. “Someone help me!” They heard a ghostly voice cry out of nowhere. “What’s going on here?” Another ghostly voice said. Olive recognized it as her own but it just didn’t sound right. Other than the odd echo her voice sounds so monoton. There was just no emotion, not even confusion.

‘I barely sounded like a person.’ She thought, now reminded of her previous state before the mark. “That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you, but…” Cassandra started to say.

They were then interrupted by a flash of light and when Olive looked again at the rift she saw a huge shadowy figure looming over the Divine. Olive watches as a ghostly figure of herself slowly walked into the room. Her face lacked any expression of fear or confusion and on her forehead was the brand of a sun.

Olive was tempted to feel her forehead now and see if the mark was still there but she knew she had to focus. “What’s going on here?” The ghostly tranquil asked.

“Run while you can! Warn them!” Justinia yelled. The Shadow figure didn’t even move. It simply said. “We have an intruder. Slay that thing.” Sounding repulsed by Olive.

With another flash of light all the ghostly figures were gone bad leaving just the large rift. “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?” Cassandra began to question Olive.

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” Was the only answer Olive could give.

While Olive was speaking with Cassandra she hadn’t noticed Solas walking closer to the rift. “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” Solas said before turning back to the group. “This rift is not sealed but it is closed, albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

“That means demons! Stand ready!” Cassandra shouted to war the soldiers and archers around them. Olive then watched as everyone prepared themselves for the fight and she stood under the rift.

‘Maker, I know I’m a mage and maybe you don’t like me but please don’t let this be the end for me.’ Olive prayed as she looked up at the rift.

Olive slowly raised her hand and began to open the Breach. Once it had ripped open a huge Pride demon fell out, knocking Olive off her feet. “Now!” Cassandra shouted from behind Olive.

Olive quickly scrambled to her feet as the soldiers charged the giant demon. Grabbing her staff and when she turned it on the pride demon Olive watched in frustration as all she could use was small sparks. If there wasn’t something more urgent going on she would have been tempted to throw the staff out of frustration.

However even in her anger she knew that wouldn’t help. Olive then noticed the shades coming out after the pride demon who was now fighting the soldiers. She could only use a small amount of her magic but it was enough to focus some electricity at the end of her staff. A Shade began to quickly approach her and since most the other soldiers were focused on the pride demon she was on her own.

Once the Shade was within range Olive quickly struck it with her staff as hard as she could in the side and watched as fell back and was stunned from the electricity. While it was still getting over the shock of the attack Olive attacked the demon again. This attack knocked the creature back even further. It was then that she saw the second Shade quickly approaching her.

When she hit the second Shade it hadn’t been as effective. The Shade recovered much quicker and started to attack Olive. She then quickly moved out of the way of the incoming demon claws. Now with the two Shades after her Olive took another hit at the weaker Shade. When her staff struck the Shade to her surprise another lightning chain came from her staff, killing the both the demons in front of her. Relieved to have her magic back again, she joined the fight against the larger demon.

As the fight continued on Olive was surprised how quickly her energy was drained. She tried to keep her distance from the pride demon as she used what little magic she still could. There were a few times that she had almost been struck by the large wips the creature was using. Cassandra and the rest of the soldiers had charged the demon and were keeping most of its attention. The demon had become weak enough to have a hard time defending itself against the Seeker and other soldiers.

While Cassandra kept it distracted Olive saw she had a clear shot to try and reach the rift. As Olive shot one last bolt of lightning at the demon she quickly and ran to get closer to the rift. Unfortunately that one last attack had gotten the attention of the pride demon and it was no longer focused on the soldiers at its feet. Before Olive had realized it the demon sent a blast of lighting in her direction. The charge of lighting barely missed Olive as she was quickly pulled back by someone behind her. When she quickly turned to see who had saved her, Olive was surprised to see the archer from earlier beside her preparing to fire another arrow.

Now that the demon seemed focused back on the soldier nearest to it Olive quickly got back to her feet and ran to the rift hoping nothing else would get in her way. After she finally managed to get close enough to the rift Olive raised her hand like she had before. The pain in her hand was more severe than before as Olive tried to force the rift closed again. Once the rift finally sealed there was a flash of bright light before Olive watched as everything faded to black.

[Masterlist]

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