#cos the spirits come across the veil right? from the fade?

[timethehobo]

Had the thought of what if Manfred really just pantomimes normally, but because The Lighthouse is in the Fade, he can while they’re in there?

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 13.2 - Redemption

Home - Zayde Wolf

Home, never too far, never too close to come home

Never too lost, never too found to come home

Never too young, never too old to be known

No matter how far you go, you're never alone

We can believe in

We can believe in dreams

Can you hear them? Can you hear them?

The lanky figure to her right she recognized immediately. This recognition stemmed from both EL’s memories as well as her own, though this woman shared far more features with Quintus now than she did with The Master. Dawn wasn’t sure how she felt about her, given their muddled past, but she knew now was not the time to hold any lingering grudges.

As she craned her head to the side and spied the being out of the corner of her eye, a goofy grin slowly creeping across the angel’s face in a poor attempt at half-apology, half-greeting.

Ozyrel. The Master. The Ancients. The Right Hand of God. Angel of Death herself.

"Hello there …" She wiggled her fingers at Dawn with a hesitant wave, followed by a nervous little chuckle all while nervously clearing her throat. “... heheh … hello again … I mean … um ....”

Dawn squinted and her nostrils began to curl up.  That fucker ...

"He’s coming." Raphael cut off his sister mid-babble. “Reunions must wait.”

Dawn shuddered. She had never felt as tiny as she did in this moment as she looked around at her uncles and found that they towered above her. She locked onto the intense amber eyes of Gabriel again and she swallowed hard. "So … What now then?" Her time in Hell came flooding back to her and she remembered how Quinlan had used her gifts to defeat their serpentine jabberwocky. “I will be your weapon.”

It was a statement of fact, or at least she felt it was. It was obvious, wasn’t it? It was why she was made, after all. Wasn’t it? To be their weapon. To be their storm. Right?

But she could not have been more wrong. She was not their weapon, just as Sandalphon had never been. She was not something to be used and later discarded. In fact, she was born to replace something that they had each lost, and standing in the center of this powerful formation, she knew what it was and what she represented within it. Dawn gulped again.

"Not at all, my silly child ..."

Michael gripped her left hand first. Energy sparked across her vision and as he stepped into her, his spirit faded to vapor and particles of gold danced over her body. Just as he felt her hate earlier, she was overcome with his love. There was a tiny instance of resistance before she realized how this had to work. She had to forgive him. In all of his glory and all of his flaws, in all of his victories and all of his stumbles, in all of his hate and all of his love. She had to accept him. In fact, she had to accept them all. In every shade of gray they existed.

Her Left Hand. The grandfather. The Lion.

She accepted him. Her residual hate dissolved.

Dawn accepted love. In fact, she bathed in it.

"You misunderstand ..."

Ozryel gripped her right hand. Silver flooded across their skin and Ozryel stepped into her next.

Her Right Hand. The torturer. The Eagle.

She let go of her unrelenting anger towards this angel and her need for vengeance retreated.

Dawn gave forgiveness.

"You are not our weapon …"

Gabriel laid a palm on either side of her shoulders and he nodded to her once before he stepped within and her vision danced with amber streaks.

Her Shield. The pursuer. The Ox.

She released her fear of him. Her desire to run waned and then abated completely.

Dawn took courage and this made her smile.

"We are yours, Daughter of Days."

She could not see him, but she felt his touch as Raphael placed his hands onto her shoulders.

She struggled with this one the most and Raphael was infinitely patient as he squeezed her shoulders gently. "Now it’s time to forgive yourself." His forehead pressed against the back of her head and the tears welled up furiously in her eyes.

"I don’t deserve that. They died …" All of those souls. All of that pain. Their existence had been snuffed out because of her actions. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven. “Because of me … because of my actions.”

"Yes. You are ultimately at fault." Her head swung low and the first tear broke free from her eye and travelled down her cheek. “And no one can understand that pain as I do.” He did. He really did and she felt it. “The past cannot be changed, not even by someone such as you.” She had seen the destruction he caused that day. The souls that he had extinguished. “But you have to let it go.” She clenched her fists. “Atone for it by proving now that their deaths had purpose. Atone for it by ensuring he takes no more this day.”

Her Heart. The guardian. The man.

She set free her self-loathing. Her yearning for punishment.

Dawn welcomed the possibility of redemption.

This was the divine chariot and she was at its very center. Their powers swirled all around her, and she realized she had always been wrong. Dawn assumed she had been born alone with a tormenting insatiable ache that drove an unrelenting loneliness.

Such a terrible fate to be a Hayyoth without an other. EL shared this pain, he explained that they were utterly defective. He said they were broken in such a fundamental way, they could never be fully complete. But now, as the reality of her current situation dawned on her, a slow and steady smile crept over her thin lips.

In the end, EL was right, but just not in the way he had always assumed. She didn’t have an other.

She had four ...

and together, they made five.

He landed on his feet this time, cratering into the pavement below as his thighs tensed, taking the brunt of the impact as an impressive little shock wave emanated in rings around him. He was already moving the manhole cover when Raum landed less than gracefully several feet away, crumpling into a broken ball on the hard street. He whimpered lowly as he cracked himself back into composure.

"Keep her busy." Quinlan barked the command as he moved into the small hole, stepping down onto the ladder and reached to pull the cover closed to hide his escape path. “Buy me as much time as you can.”

Though he couldn’t see the beast, he could hear it clawing is way down the side of the building, barrelling down on them as fast as her seraphim speed could manage.

"Keep her busy?! Are you mad?!" Raum snapped his arm back into place, growling as he came back to his feet. “Wait! Where the bloody hell are you going?!”

"It is clear you are faster than I." Quinlan shrugged, offering an excuse veiled as compliment. “Meet me in the south junction of the 23rd street tube station.” As the dhampir pulled the manhole cover closed above him, he looked at the marid through the tiny sliver of opening left. “Buy me as much time as you can. Take her the long way around. That is …” Quinlan grinned with mischievous and manipulative intent. “If you can manage it, Duke.”

"Hey! I can mana--" Quinlan felt the impact of the dragon on the ground above and even heard a tiny curse from Raum as the marid fled on foot, leading the beast away from him. He waited on the ladder until he was certain she was in mad pursuit and then he jumped down into the belly of the tunnels and smiled gloriously, remembering Vasily’s incessant babbling of this very area.

"Thank you, Mr. Fet." He missed the big man and he was suddenly and irrevocably grateful for all this “useless” information of the New York underground. As he navigated through the tunnel system of the sewer, he quickly found his way into the subway just as the Ukrainian had instructed him.

Sandalphon came to mind and he shook his head as he wondered how fortuitous it had been to have met the man. Everything had always been for a reason. Every single thing. "Clever little prophet."

He followed the tube passage and jumped up to the platform of the familiar station. The very one that Dawn had fled from the train that fateful day and he had pursued her. He hopped over the fallen and lifeless shells of people litter about the ground and on the stairs. His heart thundered with anticipation and he smiled as he drew nearer to his intended destination.

Everything was for a reason. Everything. Dawn had been drawn to that man for an uncertain reason and he had helped to open Quinlan’s eyes to the control of this purgatory. He had told him about the mind fleas and to the conspiracy of this reality. But the dhampir’s absolute certainty slowly waned as he approached the junction of hallways and he heard ... nothing.

He had hoped to hear the ranting from afar but all was entirely quiet and as he rounded the final bend, his heart fell. No one stood. Not a thing moved. Fallen people littered the area and the bum, his obvious target, was slouched against the far wall, legs sprawled out before his limp figure. His head leaned to the side. His hands open and still in his lap.

Could Quinlan have been wrong? Apparently this man was just like all the rest of the mortal souls here. Damnation. This was not what he expected and a Latin curse escaped as he turned to flee back into the belly of tunnels, unsure what he might try next.

Free - Tommee Profitt, Svrcina

Known by the sin of our fathers

Let it all come out and burn like a fire

We'll shout a little bit louder

Cos the night still has a thousand nights

And when the truth is brought to light

You and I, you and I will be

Free, free, free

"I … doubted." It was a whisper, laden with sadness and such viceral anguish that Quinlan froze mid-retreat.

Quinlan spun and the man leaning against the wall twitched and spoke lowly. Oh gods. He had been right. This man was not like the others and the dhampir’s heart raced again with burgeoning hope. "Pardon?" He stepped towards him. “What did you doubt?”

"Forgive me." The beggar seemed to stare down into his open, dirty hands before struggling to his feet, using the wall behind him as leverage. Quinlan might have offered him assistance, but he did not imagine the man would accept it. In fact, he knew he would not. “For the first time, I had begun to doubt you ...”

"I do not require your forgiveness. Right now, there is far more serious--" He offered the statement, but as the man continued to speak out into the open space around them, interrupting the dhampir mid-sentence, it was quite obvious Quinlan wasn’t the intended recipient of his words.

"My faith … I am sorry. I faltered. Forgive me." The man reached for a headless mop handle and took several steps towards Quintus as he finally acknowledged his existence, leaning heavily on the makeshift staff. “Well? Shall we?”

Quinlan cocked his head to the right. "Shall … we?"

"Well ... She is coming." The man pointed down the corridor, in the direction from which Quinlan had entered. “I think we should go now. No?” He took several steps in that direction before the dhampir stammered.

"Wait … Wait." This was no place or time for small talk, though Quinlan didn’t imagine he would have even attempted had there been, but he still felt he was missing something and he hated to be in the dark. “Who … are you?”

The old man tilted his head just a smidge to the right, pushing the hood of his dirty jacket back. For the first time, the dhampir got a clean view of his overly bearded face, of his matted dark brown and gray hair, of his soot smeared skin, and of his … glossed eyes. He had entirely missed this detail before as the man’s eyes were so gray in color that the matching non-black tint of the pupil had been masked.

"That’s the wrong question."

Quinlan was not a fool and he actually knew the previous question had been wrong the moment it fled from his lips and his body flooded with bumps as he knew what the right question was even before the man asked for it. "Who … were you?"

"Yes … Good. Clever one, aren’t you?" The sigh that escaped the man’s lungs was long and tortured. “You see … “ He tapped his ear. “He wept into my ear that night … my last night on Earth ...” He pulled back his sleeves to show Quinlan the scars across his pale wrists. “He wept when he told me I would need to suffer here ... for thousands of years.” He pulled his sleeves back down, subduing the shame that accompanied these marks. “He asked that I come here ... knowing I would bear witness to all the punishments for my fallen children.” The man laughed and though his words were sad in nature, this laugh was rich in relief and gratitude. “He wept when he said he needed me to sacrifice myself.”

"Who?" Quinlan pushed, though the answer was quite obvious. “Who wept into your ear … ?” He very nearly called the man child, but even as the title brushed apprehensively across the dhampir’s mind, a shiver ran down his spine, stopping him. He knew this man was older than even himself. In fact, he felt like he had always known this man.

"My father. My maker. God." The blind man said simply. He was definitely blind, though he stared directly into Quinlan’s eyes and the dhampir swallowed hard. “God cried when he asked me to sacrifice. When he asked me to die … for this.”

"I do not understand." Quinlan prodded as he looked around. This was taking far too long. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time for such crazy banter. And yet … he needed to know. “Why would he ask this of you? Why would he--”

"He said that I would need to be here ... at this time ... in this place ..." Fate. That tricky invisible hand. There should have been no wind in this place and yet the breeze plucked across the man’s face and his mangy hair danced in its chaotic embrace. He smiled, breathing another sigh as he reached out to touch Quinlan’s half human face and much to the dhampir surprise, he allowed him. His dirty fingertips, sticking out from the ends of the tattered gloves, glanced off of Quinlan’s largest cheek scar precisely. “That you would need my help here, son …”

Son.

There was something so profoundly true in that word and Quinlan found himself unable to shake the feeling that encompassed him now. "Your help …?" He whispered the question. “With what exactly?” Quinlan didn’t want to sound desperate, but he was. He knew he was trapped. He knew he was damned, and he still wasn’t entirely sure if this man wasn’t just mad. “What could you possibly do to help me?” This man was blind.

"To help you do what you do best, Fifth Invictus." Was Quinlan really shocked this man knew who he was? Yes and no. Quinlan waited with held breath. “Unconquerable. Invincible. To do what you were born to do.” The man grinned furiously. “Quintus Sertorius … sorry … Quintus … Densus …” Quinlan’s doubt of the man’s sanity melted away. “To do what you do better than anyone else ...”

"And what exactly is that?"

"To disrupt, Prince of the Pale. To dismantle. To destruct. There has never been a cage that could hold you, has there?" The man smiled and for the first time, Quinlan saw a brief glimpse of sanity. Quinlan saw the man behind the crazy and his skin crawled with bumps. “I’m here to help us break free from this cage.”

"And yet, you have still not answered my question." Quinlan tilted his head to the right and peered into the strange visage. “Who are you?”

"I have already said who I am." The man stiffened and stood tall, throwing his shoulders back as pride filled his posture. “I am the Prophet of the Lord.”

"Yes. So you have said." Quinlan tilted his head the other direction. “And which one would that be? History knows many.”

"Really? Certain of that, are you?" The old man chuckled. Old? Was he truly older than Quintus? Very old, in fact.

"Methuselah?" Quinlan offered and the man snorted, waving him off as he began to step towards the tunnels again. “Enoch?” The dhampir scurried after him and his frustration began to mount. “Please, I do not follow. Who are you? Why would God send you to me? What could a blind man possibly--”

"There is not a single answer to your question. I have been many, Prince. My soul has spanned lifetimes."

"How many?"

"I have been a prophet of the Lord hundreds of times. Perhaps more. What does it matter? I’ve lost count now. The years blur since my true beginning."

"Hundreds?" The question was but a rasp as its true gravity hit Quinlan fully.

"A prophet is a dangerous thing, or have you not gathered as much yet?" The prophet shuffled around the corner as Quinlan followed. “Surely you realize that The Great Spirit would not have made more than a handful of us. In fact, there have never been more than five ...” The man pinched his eyes shut with sadness. “At any single time … There is great power in five, don’t you see?”

Five. It was always five. Not four. There were not four brothers. There were five. Five invictii. Five prophets.

"Only five?" Quinlan’s mind swam with the possibility of the man’s statement. “But … there have been more than five prophets …”

The man stopped and faced Quinlan. "I … was the Patriarch of all prophets. I … led the Exodus of the Israelites out of Egypt. I … built an ark so massive that my children could persist after God’s childish wrath. I … brought peace to the five warring clans of the Iroquois nation. I have been burned at the stake more times than I care to remember. And where I am the alpha." Deganawida closed his eyes, taking in a deep and passionate breath, relief washing over him as he shed all need for disguise. “My child … your love … is the omega.”

"The … alpha … ?" Quinlan squinted at him. “You are … ” The Alpha prophet himself. Patriarch of all the prophets. The First? Which meant before even Lilith herself. And this simple fact left only one possibility. Quinlan was unsure if he should be surprised or impressed. He had met many who were more impressive, hadn’t he? “You are …” And yet, this caused him great pause. “Adam.”

"Was." The man stretched. “I was … at one point … at one time … in another life … very far from this one.”

"Was. So then what are you now?"

"Now?" That smile. Quinlan knew it though he was certain he had never met this man before. He knew what it was and what it expressed because he felt connected to him. The feeling of that connection coursed through his veins. “At this point in time? At this instance?” The man placed his hand on the dhampir’s shoulder and gripped it with a familiarity that rattled Quinlan to his very core. “I am to be your salvation, my son.”

There was a concerning vibration in the background, though he knew he had heard this before, he wasn’t able put his finger on what it was. Not yet at least. This should have been his first concern, as EL considered his memory unmatched.

He knelt on that rock and touched it inquisitively. He had left her right here. Dammit. He stood and squinted into the vast darkness, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his head, lest she might be watching him. Best not to give away his utter confusion. "Where’d you go, you slippery fuckers …"

While he knew Michael was here, he wasn’t sure if Raphael had been foolish enough to follow his brother in. "I know you’re here!" He called out. “Come on!” He waved his arms around, egging them on. “Aurora … where did you go? Aurora!?”

Something glinted in the distance and he casually strolled towards it, his footsteps echoing against nothing and everything all at once in the infinite and dark space. "Ah hah! There you are."

As he approached, his head craned to the left. Wait, that wasn’t Aurora. It was much larger than her and it glinted of bronze for a moment. Or perhaps it was silver? Or maybe even gold ...

"Gabriel?" EL snorted merrily. “Are you serious?!” Oh this was getting good. The brute would be the easiest path into the Nexus. He would take him right now in fact, but as he closed the distance, he thought he saw Michael instead, or perhaps it was Ozryel?

As he got closer and closer, he did see Dawn. Short and still. Standing and silent. Her eyes were closed and he stopped five feet from her, pausing as the uncertainty rattled him. Where was the Indigo Child? "You guys really should have stayed out. This isn’t Earth." He waved his hands around at the space in Dawn’s mind. “I’m in charge here.”

"Takes a big man to pick on such a tiny woman, doesn't it?" Gabriel voice echoed from somewhere, from everywhere, all at once, but her lips hadn’t moved. “Feel proud of yourself, Lucy?”

"Small woman? EL chuckled and his laugh was thick and rich with disgust. “You have no idea what she’s capable of. You always think size indicates strength. Haven’t I proved you wrong enough times, big brother?"

"That, my dear, sweet, lost, little sibling …" This was Ozryel’s voice. Her quip rattled through the darkness as she snickered. “Is actually exactly what we’re hoping for.”

"Enough." EL scowled at Dawn, cocking his head to the right and twitching like the bird of prey he was. “I’m done here.” He reached into her mind, feeling for anyone or anything. “I don’t have time for you right now.”

"But … all we have is time, you little shit." Michael laughed with unhindered amusement leaking in his voice. Everything began to hum louder.

Champion - Barns Courtney

I've been on a long road

With the devil right beside me

Rising with the morning sun

It's a hunger that drives me

Woah Lord, set my soul

Take my pain and turn it into gold

Cause all I know, all I know, all I know is...

Champion

I can take a beating, I'll rise again

Burning through the jungle until the end

I can live forever, I'll rise again

Keep rising up I'm

Champion

That sound. Fuck. He knew that sound. The darkness itself had started to vibrate with its rhythm and she hadn’t moved yet. Not even to open her eyes and EL laughed, masking his concern, as he always did.

"It’s not too late." This time it was her and though her lips moved, her voice came at him from all directions. “You can go back home, EL. I’ll allow it.” A smirk. She was making him the very same offer he had just made her. “Trust me, it’s a better deal than Heaven will offer.”

"I’ve been patient." His voice cracked with budding disappointment as he sighed all too dramatically. His form moved and he reshaped himself. His height stretched several feet and his tail slithered towards her, weaving its way around her ankles as the crown of his cobra physique flexed out around his face, curving up around his entire head. “I assure you, far more patient than I have ever been with anyone. You should be honored.”

"You’ve overstayed your welcome and we’re gonna have to ask you to leave now." There was a familiar vibration in those words. Her tone was more masculine than feminine and the vibrations only increased. It wasn’t just one voice. It was many.

"Oh Aurora, Aurora, Aurora ... who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?"

"My name …" That damn noise. It had been distant, but now it was clean and sharp and overly familiar. He remembered it. He had trouble recalling it before because he had only heard it once, at the very moment of his creation. This was the sound of the Living Creatures locking into the chariot. It was the vibration of the individual Hayyoths seeking alignment within the gears of the divine wheel itself. And then the noise hummed with absolute clarity. It began to spin all around them. Faster and then faster. Wind blew through EL’s hair. “Is Dawn.”

"Oh … " EL whispered as a confident grin stretched across her face and he fought the urge to take a step back when she looked upon him with matching rainbow eyes. “Fuck.”

It was too late. This discussion had delayed them far too long and Quinlan was not surprised when Persephone rounded the corner ahead of them. Though, he was surprised to see Raum’s feet in her claws as she drug him carelessly behind her.

"You seem to have forgotten something!" Upon seeing the dhampir, she chortled with glee. “Pity, I might have dropped a bit of him along the way though.” Quinlan hadn’t noticed that the body was lacking its head until she flung the limp Marid towards him with as much strength and speed as possible. He attempted a dodge, but the body hit him with such force, he continued with its trajectory into the brick wall behind them, connecting with the blind prophet as he went. “I’m afraid he wasn’t as fast as you assumed.” The next cackle echoed.

"And you are dumber than I imagined! Fleeing from me into the bowels of the Earth?!" She grunted a low and guttural chuckle. “Stupid thing. Did you forget this is my domain!” The walls shook and the brick that lined them cracked and fell as the ground around the tunnel heaved and swayed to her will. “There are no windows down here from which you might flee me. I have won.”

Damnation. Useless Djinn! Quinlan pushed the headless body from him and came to his feet, glimpsing that the prophet was now unconscious from the impact. He might have cursed, but her claws prevented it as she pinned him against the brick. Leaning down, she took in his smell with deep and eerie inhales. She tasted him from his aroma, drawing it out of the air itself and she licked her lips, showing pleasure from its flavor.

He struggled against her grip. "Stop fighting me. It’s pointless. Useless in fact. No one can help you. Just give in to me, Invictus." Persephone purred into his ear and she stroked the hair that was still upon his head with strange affection. “Surrender.”

He grunted like a child, tensing and thrashing. He bit down, flexing his muscles against her strength. This position. This feeling. Being subdued. Being dominated. It was unacceptable. Clenching his jaw, he felt panic set in and he struggled harder than he even had against Raphael when the angel had pinned him in a very similar way.

"No. No. No. I must go. Release me, Demon!" He chanted over and over and then something began to give. The wall behind started to soften. In fact, everything began to soften. If her eyes hadn’t grown large with burgeoning worry, he would have thought it was her doing, but Persephone pulled him back from the brick and flung him away, sending him skidding across the ground on his side.

"I am insulted! Why don’t you like it here, Invictus? I gave you a beautiful wife. A perfect little family, albeit just a little broken by design. I thought you might enjoy something you would have to fix. It would have made it feel more … like yours." Persephone ruffled her frills as she spoke. Her scaled dragon lips exposing the large teeth in graceful waves as she spoke. “I gave you a life that most would cherish.”

"It is not real." He was back on his feet, glancing at the still unconscious prophet. Useless! “They are not real. Dawn is real. Dawn is--”

"Aurora?! She is above you, lowly born bastard slave. You should be happy that she is free of this place and free of you."

"And that was your folly, Demon. There is no happiness without her."

"If you really cared for her, you’d let her go, wouldn’t you? Everything that you touch, turns to ash. Everyone that you love, eventually suffers for it." She paced before him. “I gave you a suitable replacement, didn’t I? A far more beautiful one.”

"I believe you and I have two very different definitions for that word." Quinlan shook his head as he laughed at her attempted manipulation. “And I will reject any soul you give me to replace her. You cannot … you will not … control my emotions.”

"Oh, you simple little thing. You think that was just any soul? Didn’t you recognize her? Didn’t she feel … familiar to you?"

"What treachery--"

"I plucked her from my garden especially for you. Out of all the ripe ones, I picked her … for you."

"You are mad. You implying I could have wanted that … thing?!" He knew this was harsh, but he wished to make a point of it.

"Do you still not recognize her, little lord? Think. Remember." The stench of her hot breath nauseated him. “Your precious, lost … tormented … tragic priestess.”

"No." Quinlan blinked. She was lying. She had to be. No. NO. “NO.” Purgatorium was filled with the lost and most broken souls of Hell and he knew her words were truth. The familiarity hadn’t been fabricated. The unshakable sense of responsibility that had plagued him. The sense of shame, of betrayal. The sense that he had failed her … Oh gods … Persephone had indeed used this to control him.

"As you said, I cannot control your emotions. That was … all you." Her tongue pressed against the back of her fangs and she whistled the word through her teeth. “You used her up …”

"Stop." He didn’t wish to remember this.

The beast snickered. "Used her up and spit her out. As you do with everyone. Just as you would have done with my niece. Michael was right." She purred. “You are a piece of shit, just like all of them are. They will use us up and spit us out. All the same … all the same.”

Her niece? This was the first folly she had made and Quinlan heard it. Hers. Was there a crumb of affection there?

"Wait … is this really your plan?" He laughed. “To force my compliance through self-loathing?” He shook his head. “You are too late, beast. I already hate myself more than any creature can. There is nothing that you need to say to make it more true, but that will never dissuade me from my happiness.”

"Happiness?" She scoffed Did your priestess experience your … happiness?”

"Then that is why you failed." He laughed. She lunged again and he was too slow again. She squeezed his ribs and even through the pain of her strength, he laughed. “Do you not realize the folly? The fact that I did not love her was why she killed herself.”

"You cared for her once. You still do. I feel it." Persephone licked the side of his face and rolled the tongue in her mouth as she relished in his skin’s taste.

"Caring and loving are two different hearts." Quinlan tilted his head, carefully considering his next words and their ultimate intention. He was about to utter something quite incendiary and her reaction might be explosive. “You would know that … if you ever bothered to love.”

Bellowing a gargantuan laugh that echoed, she cackled at his attempt to infuriate. "That is rich coming from someone as repugnant as you. I’ve seen your mind. Your memories. I doubt that even what you feel for Child of Prophecy is real love."

But something had been plaguing him since he woke. It had itched at the back of his brooding mind and now was the time to call it out. If she wanted to chat, then he would comply. "You are full of shit." The language was overly vulgar on purpose to pique her attention and it worked beautifully.

"Excuse me?"

She gripped his neck tighter and he pulled at her claws, trying to relieve enough pressure for him to speak again. "You know it. Or else why would you send us to that museum … together? Of all the places to send us … "

"Me? I did no such thing." She lied. She was a terrible liar. “I was toying with you both!” The laugh was nearly genuine, but he smirked slightly as he picked up the hint of dishonesty lingering in the very back of her tone. “You know nothing.”

"Bullshit. The fliers in the lobby … the last day … " He could see it now. In her face. In her eyes. The tone of her words. He could see her agony. She was a prisoner herself, the same as he. His lips curled up and what Quinlan did next was entirely against his nature. He took a deep breath and surrendered to her. Every muscle relaxed and he whispered the word again. “Bullshit.” She could have ripped him apart at this moment, and instead, her claws loosened. This had been nothing more than a game to her and he wasn’t going to play it any longer. “You wanted us to find each other. You wanted us to love.”

"I wanted …" Persephone stuttered. “... I wanted her to see the repugnant thing I know to be.”

"Bullshit. You fear her. You would not have toyed with her heart as such." Quinlan stood tall before her and touched his neck as he stretched it, clearing his throat. “The museum. The exhibit. Beauty. Monstrosity. The battle between light and dark. Michael vs. Lucifer. You were painting our narrative for us to see. You were trying to awaken--”

"I wanted her to see you. I wanted you to reject her for who she really was. I wanted her to experience the pain I have. I wanted her to see who your true heart. What men really are ..."

"Bull … shit." She ruffled at the word and Quinlan smirked, shaking his head at her continued excuses and lies.

"You are right, Quintus." This came from the side as the prophet finally spoke. “She pushed you two together. She wanted to watch you fall in love again. She wanted to feel the love that I know she so desperately misses.”

"Shut up!" She spun, spitting at the man. “Enough!”

"And the reason is so very simple. It’s because …" The homeless man hummed. He was back to his feet finally, with that ridiculous mop handle in his hand again. “Persephone has always been a romantic at heart.”

"Don’t speak as if you know me, dirty peasant!" Her attention diverted to the raggedy man and she took several menacing steps towards him, threatening as she approached. “I will wipe your mind again and again and again. As many times as it takes.”

"Wipe it then. Again and again and again. Send your fleas in. It makes no difference because it will never stick. It never has and it never will."

"You are a continued annoyance I will no longer tolerate. Just a fly. Buzzing around my world."

"Do you not wonder why, Maiden?" Quinlan interrupted. “Do you not know what he is?! What makes him different?!”

"Nothing makes him different! He’s just a man." She hissed towards the beggar. “I’ve been in his mind and he’s just a man.” She spun again. “You’re … just a damned man, like all the rest here.”

"You are absolutely right, big sister." Sister. Persephone paused. Her shoulders and neck frill rattled as she shook in disagreement with that word. “I am just a man, but hardly like all the rest. And each time you take from my mind …” A breeze danced across the air. “Our Father will always give it back to me.”

Our … Father.

"No!" She charged him and Quinlan knew there was no time to react. She charged at the gray, frail man, but he stood his ground, not moving an inch as she came to a stop before she touched him. “Stop!”

"I am just a man, big sister." He reached up to touch her cheek and she shrieked at the motion, moving away just slightly enough from his reach that he could not touch her. “I am just a man. In fact, the only man who shares your father, sister.”

" … lies … You are lying." Her resistance to his words waned. “You … you … you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have … damned yourself ...”

"I would have said the same of you, beautiful maiden."

" … lies … No. Enough! I will not be--"

"אויב איר טאָן ניט טראַכטן וועגן דעם, איר טאָן ניט טראַכטן וועגן דעם .רעהטאָרב רווי אָסלאַ מאַ, איך טאָן ניט גיין"

And as the enochian flowed freely from his lips, she came down to her knees before him, accepting the truth of his words and the truth of his soul. Quinlan had no idea what was uttered, but absolute relief followed her whispered word: "Adam? Why … why didn’t you say something?!"

It was perfect. This distraction was perfect. The dhampir grinned with sinister intent as he quietly dipped to retrieve his sword, approaching her from behind.

He would have swung the blade up and down through her unsuspecting neck, but Adam waved a hand towards him, halting the stealth attack. "Put the sword down, Quintus. There is no longer a need for it. The fight is done."

"Wait … what?!? Are you … mad?!" The dhampir stared at the blind man with budding frustration. “You cannot trust her! If you are not here to help me defeat her, then why are--”

"There is more than one way to defeat an opponent, General Densus." Adam reached out for her again and this time, she allowed him contact with her skin. “When I said I was sent here to help free us from this terrible cage … from this accursed place … from this endless punishment and torment ...” He gripped each side of her massive jaw and pulled the beast’s head down to his level and she allowed it, his touch seemed to soothe the burning fire within her. “From damnation.” Pressing his cheek against the scales of her face, he sighed deeply. “I was not referring to just you and I, Quintus. It’s time to go home, big sister.”

Quinlan’s brows knitted together and his forehead grooved with lines of intense expression as he watched the once great and giant dragon melt back into the frail, old woman she had begun as. Adam accepted her, his arms wrapping around her tiny frame and she wept into his raggedy coat as he rocked her back and forth.

"You should not be here." She cried. “What have you done to yourself? You should not--”

"You have been so very angry for so very long. But it’s not your fault. You’ve simply forgotten how not to be. It’s time to let the despair go. I was sent here to remind you ..."

"I … I am damned. I am alone. Forgotten." Her words refused him, but her body did not and he rocked her, cradling her head against his shoulder. “Forsaken.”

Adam grinned ever so slightly. "Damned? Perhaps, sister. Perhaps. But never alone and absolutely never forgotten. You have never been forsaken. Father has never torn his eyes from you … even in your time here." Adam pulled back and cupped her wrinkled cheeks in his tattered gloves, the very tips of his fingers poking through the torn leather ends and touching her white skin directly. “In fact, his trust in you was so fundamentally absolute that he chose to let you come here, just as he chose me. We are not forsaken. We are chosen.”

"I …" Surrender washed over her and she questioned the prophet with great apprehension. “Do you still hear him?” The blind man nodded simply.

"Such is my curse."

"Does he …" She swallowed hard. “Can he ... forgive me?”

"You have never needed his forgiveness." Adam pulled away from her completely now and she wiped the tears from her face. “Never then and never now. But your next choice will ultimately determine whatever redemption you wish to seek for yourself, big sister.”

"Redemption?" The word hung on her shriveled lips and she considered it carefully. “I am not worthy of such--”

"All things are worthy of redemption." Adam shook her slightly. “Everything that has ever been created is worthy of forgiveness ... and redemption. So what will it be, sister? Freedom or confinement? War or peace? Damnation or redemption?”

"I …" She looked down, shaking her head twice before she met the prophet’s gaze again, understanding what they were asking for. “I can’t help you. I don’t know the way out.”

"Of course not." Adam grinned. “Of course you don’t. You’re a prisoner, the same as me. We cannot break this cage, sister …” He flicked his head towards the silent figure who watched their interaction without interruption. “But he can.”

Quinlan looked shocked to be called out and he motioned to his own chest. "Me? How can I--"

"You cut your way into this place." Adam shrugged and pointed towards the sword in Quintus’ hand. “He says you can cut your way out. Do you remember where you tore through?”

"I do not understand. How can I do something she cannot?" He pointed at the old woman. “Is this not--”

"It’s the Power of Creation." Revelation danced across her hazel eyes as Persephone understood at once and she smiled, staring at his bone sword and then deep into his eyes. “You are an extension of Ozryel himself. Your soul reeks of his divinity.”

"Yes." Adam agreed. He turned to the reluctant dhampir, leaning heavily on his “staff” as he did. “I am told that you started a rebellion in Heaven, Prince of the Pale. And I am told that now … it’s Hell’s turn.”

"Very well then … I can try." The dhampir gripped the blade in his hand, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he shrugged. Just as he was an extension of Ozryel, his blade was an extension of him. In another time, in another place, he would resist fully accepting her as a new ally so quickly, but something felt remarkably right about the situation. He took several steps toward the tube exit, but neither moved to follow him. “Well? Are we going?”

"Quintus ..." Persephone cleared her throat with a tiny giggle and Adam sighed, shaking his head as he pointed the end of his mop handle towards the limp and headless body against the southern wall, expressing disappointment in the dhampir’s feigned ignorance. “Perhaps we should retrieve Raum’s head first?”

Quinlan hadn’t purposefully forgotten about the downed Djinn, or at least he would never admit that openly. The man had helped him, however pointless it had been and the dhampir groaned. "Fine. I suppose he may still be of some use."

House of the Rising Sun - The Animals

And don't forget what your name is

And know what the game is

From the North coast to the South coast

From country to country

Mind to mind

Generation to generation

From time to time

And to sniff across your mind

It wasn’t at all what she was expecting. It wasn’t order. It wasn’t beautifully aligned. It was absolute fucking chaos. They locked into place and as the divine wheel began to spin around her, everything hummed in beautiful harmony until EL came at them. He saw her eyes and there was no hesitation. She envied his quickness to act but it did not belay the fear that she saw thick in his eyes.

But then everyone tried to step forward all at once.

Well, not entirely everyone. She and Raphael watched as the other three struggled for control, attempting to block his first blow. As a result, Dawn took no action at all, and they went sliding across the ground.

It didn’t help that she could feel another fight taking place at the same time, but this one was not in her mind. This one was on Earth. Each of the Angels, including EL, was splitting their attention between the two.

EL pulled her to her feet and his forehead connected with hers. Everything echoed with viscous waves as the force of his strike drew sparks across all their sights.

"Good lord!  Who’s elbow is in my face?!!" Ozryel screamed.

"Oz, no one has elbows in here!" Michael sighed.

"If it’s not an elbow, then what the hell is it?!" She bellowed. “Oh god, Gabriel that better not be you!”

"Yeah, you’re gonna wish that was my elbow." Gabriel quipped back, snickering sinisterly.

"Oh my fucking god … that had better be your god damned elbow!" Ozryel was horrified and Gabriel was laughing.

"FOR FUCK’S SAKE! THERE ARE NO ELBOWS HERE! OR ANYTHING ELSE!!!" Michael wailed.

Another strike was imminent and she felt them all flood forward again.

"I’ve got this!" The three of them said all at once.

It was too much. There was too much. EL hadn’t let go of her since the last hit and he cocked his head back as he prepared for another blow and everything slowed to a stop as Dawn gasped for breath. She didn’t even know where she was anymore. She was inside of her mind … inside of her mind? Oh god … Everything reeled and she thought she might throw up, but of course, there was no body. Nor was there a stomach from which to eject stuff. There was just this. Just … her. Her and … them. The chaos of … them.

"I don’t know how to …" She wasn’t even entirely sure who she was talking to and when no one responded, she realized there was no one she could talk to. Everything had stopped. No, that wasn’t entirely right. She had stopped everything.

"Oh shit." She spun but nothing changed. She was alone. “Oh no. No, no, no, no.” She remembered the confluence and Ellie and Lilith. She remembered their training and she closed her eyes (even though she had no eyes) and she took a deep, long breath (even though she had no lungs) and her heart raced furiously (even though this was just her mind) and she focused. She focused on one person in particular.

"Very good." He responded as she released him, or rather, pulled him into her bubble. “You’re learning.” He smiled. She didn’t see his grin of course, but she felt it.

"I suck at this." She had barely begun to reinforce her lack of confidence and she felt him shake his head. “Are they always like this?!”

“Yes.”  The answer was immediate and curt.  She thought it was intended for humor, but his face was entirely serious.

“I can’t--”

"I have never heard Sandalphon utter those words." He stated it as plain as day. “Not in a million years.” That time span sounded facetious, but something assured her … it was likely not.

"I’m not Ellie." She retorted, stating the obvious but she somehow knew she would regret this doubt.

"Clearly you’re not." Raphael shrugged, squinting at her with friendly, yet manipulative eyes. “You’re much stronger than she has ever been. Than she could ever be.”

Shit.

She waved towards the other three angels in disgust. She knew it was childish to blame Raphael, but her embarrassment allowed the words to rush forth without much lingering thought. "You’re not saying anything. You were just standing there. Why don’t you just do it? I’ll let you. You can--"

"It’s not my place to command here." Raphael admitted without an ounce of arrogance. “I can’t feel them as you do. Besides …” A small and innocent snicker leaked out of his jovial words. “Right now, they are much more likely to surrender to you than me.”

"Yeah right." She dismissed his claim with a huffed breath. “I don’t buy that for one second.”

"I’ve caused them to doubt me. And rightly so." He admitted. “I’ve kept things from them. I’ll have to earn that trust back, but you … “ Oh god. That damn smile. “They want to trust you. I can feel that.”

"I just … Can you help me?" She looked at them and then she looked at him. “I don’t know if--”

"Does a sword command the person who wields it, Dawn?" She didn’t want to answer his question and really, she knew it didn’t matter if she did. He was right and she was just stalling. “Do you take orders from it … Or you do command it?”

"But … What happens if we do and I force him out?" She was terrified to hear the answer. “What happens if we succeed?”

"You know the answer to that." Raphael was full of bitter honesty. “He will be pushed back to Hell.”

"And what about Quintus?" She jumped on the question immediately. It plagued her more than any other. “He’s still there … I shouldn’t have left him there.”

"That’s a very good question. One I have no doubt Sandalphon has already considered. Whatever you might think of her now, you and I both know … there’s more left to whatever plan she set into motion." She felt the longing that raged in Raphael’s heart. “So I suggest … We give The Born as much time as he might require.” She felt his hands on her arms, turning her back around to face the fight. To face her other uncles. “How long do you think the two of us can keep our Light Bringer busy?”

"You mean the five of us." She corrected and she felt the archangel beam from behind.

"Yes. Five."

There is power in Five.

He pushed on the middle of her back gently, urging her to step toward. "Now … try again."

Ah hell.

Adam was less than spry in his stroll. He took up the rear and they had to slow down for him quite often. But it was now only a few more blocks to the point of Quinlan’s initial entry to purgatory and the dhampir slowed down, allowing Persephone and Raum to take the lead so that he might steal a private word with the prophet.

"You can hear him?" Quinlan asked lowly. “God speaks to you even now?”

"I can always hear him. Even when others do not. Even when he himself does not wish it. This is my gift. My curse."

"Hmmm." The dhampir nodded as he carefully considered his next line of questioning.

"Just ask. He already knows what you wish to know."

"Can he …" Quinlan resisted the emotion, but his voice quaked with the words. “Can he see her now?”

"He is always watching her. All of us, in fact."

"Did she make it through her gate?" Quinlan slowed his pace even more, putting more distance between them and the two in front. “Does she live again?”

"Yes."

A wave of relief flushed his body and he breathed out deeply

"But she battles the Morning Star now." The Prophet grinned with great pride. “One of my children fights against the greatest of snakes right now, for the existence all.” Adam’s smile only widened further, exposing the coffee stained enamel of his underlying yellow teeth. “Between the two of us …” He leaned in and whispered the next words as if they were a great secret. “I don’t think the the Light Bringer understands the wrath that he has unleashed.”

"No. He does not." Quinlan tried to meet his smile, both in pride and love, but his weariness shown through. “She is … defiant.”

"She’s with her uncles." Adam nodded. “She is with Raphael now. She has embraced them all.”

This sentence, this thought, was incredibly comforting and Quinlan pinched his eyes shut. "Good."

"But ..." Adam gripped his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. “It was not just her wrath I was speaking of … Your wrath is quite legendary, Prince.”

"My wrath …" Quinlan sighed, shutting his eyes in shame. “My anger drove me for much of my life. It was addictive, in a way. I fed off of it, and it fed from me. But now ..." Quinlan stared down at his gloves. "I am fueled by a new addiction, a better one, I feel."

"Do you really think she is an addiction, Quintus?"

"There is no better word to describe the visceral need I feel for her."

“You can just call it love.” Adam nearly laughed. “All things in creation are worthy of it. Even you, Quintus.  In fact, most especially you.”

“I … I wished to prove myself worthy. I told Michael I would, but I … sent her on alone. I promised her I would not do so again. I promised–”

"You worry, but there is no need for that." Adam noted. “She will win, and that outcome, thanks to you diving head first into the belly of the pit itself, thanks to you following her beacon into the most terrifying of places, Invictus, is already in motion. Her victory is unstoppable. That has always been her fate ... but …”

Quinlan opened his pale eyes. "But?"

"But our fates … Our outcome … has never been certain, Prince of the Pale."

"Well?" Persephone interrupted, waving at a spot near in the middle of the road. “This is where he popped right in, swinging his big sword everywhere and cutting my little dolls in half like a barbarian.”

"Are you sure?" Raum looked around, his hand finding its way back to his neck as he stretched it again. Since they had pieced him back together, he hadn’t been able to leave his neck alone let alone stop glaring at Persephone when the situation would permit. He kept a cautious five foot distance directly behind her. “I don’t see anything.”

"No you don’t." Adam leaned on his mop handle. “But he does … don’t you, Quintus?”

Stepping forward, the space flooded him with memories. Yes. This was where it happened and yes, he did see something, but nothing like what he was expecting. He thought it might be a gate of some sort, as Dawn had described hers, but this was almost unperceivable.

The only thing he could see was a blurry spot hovering in the air about five feet high, barely the size of his fist. As he tilted his head from side to side, approaching it slowly, it flickered and undulated, weaving in the air as if it was a heat distortion dancing back and forth above an invisible fire.

As he approached it, he could hear something seeping from it. It was a faint whistling, as if the air was escaping from a tiny hole in a balloon. It was a pressure leak.

"Alright. Great. So what now?" The Djinn asked, but no one answered as they watched Quinlan reach into the spot and his hand faded from site. “Whoa …”

The dhampir pushed his fist in as far as he could and then he felt the edges of the rip fight against the full size of his arm. When he pulled his hand back out, he was relieved to see it was still in tact. But this hole was too tiny for his entire body though. "It’s too small." He voiced the concern out loud, not expecting an answer, yet Adam provided one nonetheless.

"He says to make it bigger then."

Hmmm. Taking a deep breath, Quinlan reached both sets of his fingers into the space and gripped the invisible edges of the hole from the inside. He was certain it would not budge, even as he put his full strength behind it. There was a grunt and he pulled his hands back out. "I cannot."

"It’s not about strength." There was a hand on his shoulder and he didn’t need to turn around to know it was Adam. “Remember what drives you. What motivates you. Find the beacon that calls to you, Quintus.  You followed it here.  Now follow it out.” It was not a coincidence that that was the very word Sandalphon had uttered to him in Heaven. He had no doubt that even now, God and her were working in concert and then he remembered the angel prophet’s words as clearly as if she was right before him, speaking them again.

"Love, you see, Quintus, is the one force that cannot be explained, that cannot be broken down to a chemical process. It is the beacon that, I am hoping, guides you back to her."

He reached into the void again and gripped its sides, the leather of his gloves squeaking as if they were rubbing against clean metal. Instead of forcing it this time, he felt it. He felt into it.

"And when we find love … no matter how wrong, how sad, or how terrible … we must cling to it, it gives us our strength, it holds us upright. It feeds on us and we feed on it."

He felt through it and then beyond it. He felt out and somehow, he heard her in the distance. She was calling him home and sparks arched through his fingers and then his hands and then his arms. He felt the divinity that was shaping this construct and he began to pull it apart and her beacon became louder. Quinlan smiled. "I am coming ..."

"Love is our grace."

The hole widened and he continued to pull, stretching it out all the way to the ground. As it became bigger, the light all around began to leak into the void and there was nothing but darkness beyond.

"Alright, great. You’ve made a hole. What do we do with that?" Raum noted sarcastically from behind. “What’s on the other side? Should we tether something and throw it in?”

"You are more than welcome to cautiously remain here, great Duke." Quinlan smirked as he drew his blade and stepped into the darkness without further delay.

Note from Author:

Oh good lord.  Where do I even begin?  Well, first I’d like to ask a few questions of my lovely readers who are left ... this chapter has been a very long time coming.  I’m curious about a few things and I’d love to hear some answers to a few questions I had:

Who saw the reveal of Danny being Deganawida and/or Adam?

Who forgot about Deganawida completely?  (I mean, he had to have gone somewhere, right?)  I kept expecting someone to ask where the hell he was.

Speculation: Who blinded Adam?

Speculation: Who broke Persephone’s Heart?

Speculation: If there is power in FIVE, Quinlan, Raum, Persephone, and Adam make four.  Any guesses on who will be their fifth?

This chapter has been a long time coming and it always takes me longer to write them lately than in the beginning.  I don’t think I’m waning in motivation, but rather I’m not looking forward to it coming to an end.  Three or Four parts left now (depends on how long winded I make the daring escape from Hell).  I hope you are still enthralled and enjoying my long winded drabble.

Cheers my friends!

[wyrdsistersofthedas]

Sinners all? Geldauron to Hakkon

Hey Nony,

Don’t be done or sorry!  I know what you mean about not being able to sleep and it’s being 5am, and you have DA ideas that just have to be written down just in case they turn into something.  And you do raise a very interesting possibility.  Is there a connection between the Sinner, Geldauran, and Hakkon?  Looking into your question brought several things to light I would not have noticed if you hadn’t asked.  So thanks!

There’s a lot of weird shit going on in the Frostback Basin, not least of which is (what appears to be) a firsthand quote from one of the Forgotten Ones.  Is it possible there is a connection between this powerful “dark god” from the elven pantheon and the later rise of Hakkon?  It sure looks that way!

Here’s the quick summary:

*Geldauran is sealed away in the elven ‘temple’ in the Frostback Basin, a Creator-forsaken land (to the ancient elvhen at least) with almost no edifices or monuments to the elven gods.  That tomb is sealed with spirit stones that are almost impossible to see, let alone find, once the Veil is place.  Those stones are scattered across the valley to prevent them from being reassembled easily, and the prison/temple itself was buried beneath the earth.

“Their pride will consume them, and I, forgotten, will claim power of my own, apart from them until I strike in mastery.” (Geldauran’s Claim)

*Some time later (possibly as early as 3200 years before present) the Avvar enter the region.  The Avvar live with the spirits of the region, shaping them into their pantheon of gods.  They communicate with one “spirit” or entity in a very curious way:

“The savages speak to their gods in the cave passage. They call it the Mouth of Echoes. They light fires and feed them with green spruce and shout their questions into the deep. They say answers come to them on the last whispered echo.” (Mouth of Echoes)

*Tevinter mages, searching for a way to communicate with Razikale, arrive in the Frostback Basin in the time gap between the Corypheus and the Magisters Sidereal entering the Black City and the foundation of the Orlesian Chantry.  They believe that the Avvar may have special knowledge about communicating with spirits.  These followers of Razikale reshape the land and expose the buried elven temple, but whatever was inside (Geldauran) was beyond their ability to control or dangerous in some way.  They construct an elaborate system of magical beams, crossing the Basin from Razikale’s Reach to the Old Temple, to seal that spirit in an even more powerful ice ward prison.  

They then abandon the region.

“Some of the Avvar, he said, believed the temple to be the haunt of old, vengeful spirits. The Tevinter had come here long ago and built their great temples and then one day, without warning, they had abandoned them all. Ragnarr was convinced they had done something terrible here, though he could not tell me what it was.” (Razikale’s Reach)

*Tevinter’s efforts to seal away what they found in the elven temple were not successful.  Within a few hundred years at most, the original Jaws of Hakkon learned to enter the the Old Tevinter Temple.  In the early Divine Age, they emerge with “Hakkon” bound to a dragon.

“In the old times, the first Jaws of Hakkon spoke with the great spirit himself. He opened their eyes that they might see the elfstones hidden across the world, and they entered the old cave and learned the mysteries of winter. Their working of cold let them slip through the ice-wall that wards the lowlander fortress, and we must now do the same if we are to take it as our own. 

Hakkon has been silent all our lives. He cannot speak to us in dreams or open our eyes, and we remain blind to the elfstones. The lowlanders, though, have found a new way to see them. The skull of a dream-slain, set with the right magicks, can bring the elfstones to our sight.

We will regain the mystery of winter.” (Leather-Bound Hakkonite Journal)

*Ameridan travels to the Frostback Basin to stop Hakkon, but miscalculations on Ameridan’s part and the power of Hakkon himself is more than the Inquisitor and his companions can overcome. The last Inquisitor traps Hakkon with time magic until the modern Inquisitor sets both free.

“The dragon's power is like none I have ever seen. Possessed by this Avvar god-spirit, it rivals the legendary Archdemon Dumat in its fury. I pray the legends of another Archdemon leading the Blight in the Anderfels are just foolish stories, but if they are true, then I understand why Emperor Drakon asked me to come here. Drakon's new "Orlais" cannot face two god-dragons at once.” (Pages near an Old Campfire)

*Time magic wards (which I would really like to know how Ameridan knew how to do) and 800 years later, the modern Inquisitor finishes the job Ameridan started, finally killing Hakkon.  

The chain of events certainly seems to lead back to the Geldauran inscription in the elven temple.  

Proving a connection to the Sinner, however, is nigh impossible at this point.  We just don’t have enough information about who the Sinner was, what exactly he did, and what happened to him.   If the Sinner took the form of a dragon, like most of us meta writers assume, he could have shown the elven people that the Evanuris were not the only ones who could take the form of the “divine”.  He would have been punished for such an act, perhaps being sealed in a temple/tomb bound in body and spirits, but there is no way to say for certain.

 All the same, I think all of these individuals and groups are connected through the Evanuris.  Is the Sinner an important player in all of these events?  Very likely.  The ominous tenor of the codex entry certainly makes it seem like a turning point, but we won’t know for what until at least DA4.

Thanks for the ask, Nony!  I found a lot of things I wasn’t expecting, which makes this result all the more satisfying.  

-MM

PS: There is a lot more to this meta than the summary.  For a more in depth analysis of the evidence that led to this summary, and a lot of other cool discoveries, check out the long version of this post under the cut.

Geldauran seems to be the lynchpin here.  We have more information about him and the other the Forgotten Ones than we have about Hakkon or the Sinner, but even that information is limited.  We know the Forgotten Ones are portrayed as enemies of the Elvhenan in Dalish legends.  But what are they really?  Elves?  Spirits?  Titans?!?

Let’s go to the source and see what we can figure out:

Geldauran wanted his message to be clear to anyone who came across it.  And the first thing he wants them to know: “There are no gods.”  Geldy knows the truth about the Evanuris.  He refuses to bow to the elven gods, and he believes that, in time, he will claim power enough to strike (at them? at the elves?).  So far, that is matching up pretty well with what we know about the Forgotten Ones, with one exception.  According to Dalish legends, Geldauran, Daern'thal, Anaris, and the other Forgotten Ones were afforded “god” status by the elves.

The legend says that before the fall of Arlathan, the gods we know and revere fought an endless war with others of their kind. There is not a hahren among us who remembers these others: Only in dreams do we hear whispered the names of Geldauran and Daern'thal and Anaris, for they are the Forgotten Ones, the gods of terror and malice, spite and pestilence. In ancient times, only Fen'Harel could walk without fear among both our gods and the Forgotten Ones, for although he is kin to the gods of the People, the Forgotten Ones knew of his cunning ways, and saw him as one of their own.

And that is how Fen'Harel tricked them. Our gods saw him as a brother, and they trusted him when he said that they must keep to the heavens while he arranged a truce. And the Forgotten Ones trusted him also when he said he would arrange for the defeat of our gods, if only the Forgotten Ones would return to the abyss for a time. They trusted Fen'Harel, and they were all of them betrayed. And Fen'Harel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People.

—From The Tale of Fen'Harel's Triumph, as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves (Emphasis added.)

So what do we have here?  First of all, the fact that the Dalish after thousands of years still remember the Forgotten Ones as gods in spite of Geldauran’s claim that “there are no gods”.  This feels like post-Veil propaganda that seeks to cast aspersions on Solas, but also claims that Geldy and co. were gods like the Evanuris.  Think about what that means for a moment.  The Forgotten Ones were so powerful that the elves had to say they were also gods in order to keep the Evanuris on their pedestal.  

And doesn’t it sound like the Forgotten Ones were elves?  Really powerful elves, like the Evanuris, but elves all the same.  So what made them dark and terrible?  And notice that something in the Fade whispered to the elves post Veil that these Forgotten Ones were really evil.  Who do we know who are stuck in the Fade?  Spirits obviously, but the Evanuris too.  The elven gods trapped in the Fade seem to have thought it was worth their time to keep up the pretense that the Forgotten Ones were gods.  Why?   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

Kidding.  I do have a theory.  It is probably because the Evanuris thought that they would be able to escape Solas’ trap fairly easily (at least at first) and believed that the Forgotten Ones would too.  Keeping fear of them alive would keep their worshipers from seeking out these other “gods” in their absence. And on that count, they seem to have been right, with an exception of those Dalish near Serault in the Tirashan Forest who seem pretty scary and worship the Forgotten Ones.  I suspect these elves will get screen time in the next game.

Next step: Where and how were the Forgotten Ones imprisoned?

The Geldauran codex is inside an ancient temple that is very familiar.  One of the things that stood out to me when I first played the Jaws of Hakkon was the lack of elven sites and artifacts in the Frostback Basin.  There is a statue of Falon’Din above Stone-Bear Hold and that’s about it.  Well, except for a temple, which is a scaled down version of the Temple of Solasan in the Forbidden Oasis.  These ruins show that there was an ancient elven presence in the area, but limited and likely for a specific purpose.  If the Temple of Solasan is any indication, that purpose may not have been to worship the elven gods or as a place to enter uthenera.  Instead, they may have been used as a prisons.  

The Forbidden Oasis is the next piece of the puzzle.

There are codex entries that indicate that the temple is elven in origin and very ancient, but there is little to indicate that there was anything significant in the area, unlike the Temples of Mythal or Dirthamen.  In fact, the whole construction technique with Solasan and the Frostback Basin site (let’s call it the Frosty Temple, to make things simpler) is different.  These structures were built into the earth, and may have at one time been completely buried, given the stratigraphy of the land around them and erosion from the nearby rivers.  And notice...no eluvians in either site.  Once you were in, there was no coming out..at least until time and erosion, perhaps with magical help, exposed the “temples” once again.

Another sign that these two sites may have been used as prisons is found on the stele in the innermost sanctum of the Solasan Temple.  It reads:

Also, as shown in the video above, the entrance of the Solasan temple had a warding spell on it that frightens mortals and spirits, another line of defense to prevent the door from being opened.  The stele at the entrance of Solasan reinforces this feeling with a warning, telling people to stay away:

There are other warning signs as well, including the statue that greets people entering the Oasis with a severed head.  People that stay in the area too long eventually go mad (1, 2, 3), either from the wards, from whatever is in the temple, or from strange “warping” of the Veil in the area.  Didot, the miner featured in the three codex entries, however, is compelled to return to the door over and over again.  There are probably two different and opposing magical compulsions going on in the Oasis; something inside the temple wants out but the wards push people away.  Stay too long and insanity is the result.  While you are in the temple or the oasis, Solas makes several interesting observations about the temple and the Veil there.  He says:

(Forbidden Oasis) The Veil is strange here... as if it were reinforced, but for a few places where it has been warped.

Yeah, Solas.  We saw your damned elven Veil artifact in the temple.  Turned it on too.  Sigh.  Clearly, Fen’Harel’s agents were in the temple before.  A good question would be what were they there for?  Were they just putting the hardware in place to create the Veil?  Were they responsible for imprisoning the individual shown on the stele in the inner chamber?  Were they staging a jailbreak?  Were they after the powers gained from opening the various chambers?  Hard to say, other than the Forgotten Ones seem to hate Fen’Harel, in spite of codex entries to the contrary.  Felassan is as close to a first hand source, and he says that Anaris wanted to kill the Dread Wolf “for crimes against the Forgotten Ones”.  So whatever Solas’ agents were doing in Solasan, he definitely knows more about the temple than he says (as usual).  Later, when the Inquisitor opens a sarcophagus inside the tombs, he says:

Solas: The magic was drawn to you, possibly because of your mark. The effects were purely benign.

Inquisitor: If it wasn’t a trap, what was it?

Solas: It may be a reward for those who prove themselves worthy.

What kind of a person sets up a warding system that will drive people in the area to madness and death if they get too close to the temple, then rewards them after they fight off the possessed corpses with magic that may only be attracted to you because of a very specific type of magic only currently known to be used by the Inquisitor, and previously contained in the Orb of Fen’Harel?  Seems fishy, but I don’t have time to follow up that the thoughts I am having about that here.  

The next part of the mystery explains why the Solasan and Frosty temples remained sealed and hidden away for so long, and also how they were eventually found again.  Let’s talk about spirit stones and oculara, people.  

In the Hissing Wastes the Inquisitor finds a diary with some background on the spirit stones:

So spirits can see or feel the stones, they have been there for ages, likely since the Veil was created, and the Breach may have made it possible, or easier, to find them, at least according to a codex entry from the Hinterlands.  More information about the shards is found in the Frostback Basin, including a sequence of event that seem to be the key to the Mystery of Winter.

The Avvar had lived in the Frostback Basin region for thousands years, communicating with spirits who they shaped to become their gods.  Then Tevinter shows up:

Tevinter went to massive efforts to uncover the ancient elven temple, at least if Helsdim Rolfsen isn’t a total nut bag.  (He’s definitely has a problem with over complicating a story, which I can totally relate to ^_^, but the initial observations that lead him to his outrageous conspiracy theories are usually sound.):

Whatever Razikale’s followers found in the temple, it’s pretty clear that it scared the shit out of them.  They construct a complicated magical ice machine that sealed the Old Temple and then they abandon the region.  

Tevinter, however, underestimated how powerful the being/spirit/whatever in the elven temple was, and how strong Avvar magic is, especially concerning their connections to spirits.  After the Imperium abandoned the basin, the original Jaws of Hakkon took up the challenge of “taming” what was in the Old Temple.

All of these codices create a complete chain of custody, from the ancient elves to the modern Hakkonites.  Ameridan, himself, gives us the final piece of the puzzle.

Ameridan compares Hakkon’s power to Dumat’s, the archdemon who lead the darkspawn in the nearly 200 year long First Blight.  Whether or not the Old Gods are the Evanuris (I typically think they are probably not, but if any of us could prove it one way or the other, we all would have a lot less meta to write. ^_^ )  Hakkon’s power is beyond that of a normal spirit, implying that he is extraordinary.  But was he truly a spirit/demon?  We have instances of elves dropping their bodies in order to seal themselves in spirit crystals, and elves basically become spirits while they are in uthenera.  It is even possible that Geldauran lost his memory of who he was during the ages he was in captivity, as happened with the arcane warrior elf in the spirit crystal.  

But I digress, and could write a whole different post about whether the Forgotten Ones were spirits or elves, and I probably will some day.  But today is not that day.  Any of you who are still reading have been very patient, so let’s wrap this up.  

Whether Geldauran was a spirit or an elf, the Avvar communicated their belief that he was their god Hakkon, and Geldauran seems to have come to believe it himself.  He rises from the Old Temple to challenge the modern Inquisitor to single combat and the dragon is killed. 

So there you have it, Nony.  Not crazy at all.  There is very compelling evidence that Hakkon is actually Geldauran.  Now whether Geldauran is the Sinner...well, like I said in the summary, there just isn’t enough information about the Sinner to draw from.  Is it possible the Sinner was related to the Forgotten Ones?  Sure. Clearly, there was some drama going down in the pantheon when the Sinner took the dragon form of the divine, but what it all means is pure speculation at this point.  There is so much dragon imagery associated with Hakkon, Geldauran, and the Sinner, that it is possible they are all related or even the same being, but they may also just be pieces in a bigger puzzle.  

And, I suspect, that story will explain many of the mysteries of the Dragon Age.

Thanks for reading!

-MM