#fane is going crazyyyy >:3

[emerald-amidst-gold]

WIP Wednesday

*scrambles into the room, hair haphazard, eyes bleary* Wednesday? OH SHIT! WEDNESDAY! 

Thank you @little-lightning-lavellan and @dungeons-and-dragon-age for the tags! (and if anyone else tagged me thank you, but it seems the curse has struck me as well! Dumb tumblr! *shakes fist*)

So, I’m working on Mythal encounter ideas and this is what I have to share >:D

Aterian. A whisper, no more. A hushed murmur in the corridors.

Aterian. Louder, harsher, sharper, but still distant like oncoming thunder.

ATERIAN!! A shout, a roar cloaked with revelry and...and adulation? Like a mead hall celebrating a victorious battle or an icon addressing its followers. 

ATERIAN! ATERIAN! ATERIAN! The roars were chanting, beckoning like the crimson lights and they only seemed to flicker at each uproarious call, his head pulsing, blackness closing in to where there was nothing, nothing, but pressure and sharpness!

Fane suddenly felt a snarl rip from his lips as a sharp, hot pain coursed through his head, his knees buckling, his hand tearing from the one holding his own so tightly, so desperately. He fisted his hands into his hair, clawing at the strands, tearing at the roots as he folded over like a turtle hiding in its shell. What was going on?! What was that...that name?! Why was it being chanted like a god’s!? Like the very things that didn’t exist!?

Why did it hold so much power?! He didn’t want more power! 

His head hurt! It was searing, blistering, and pounding like a tong and hammer in the forge! It felt like it was being split open with an axe, the head wiggling back and forth as if to pry it open! This was on the same level as what the orb had done back in Haven, but somehow, it felt worse! And all he could see was black! No green, no blue, no gold, no crimson! Only black, black, blackblackblackblackbla--!

“Vhenan!”, Solas called out to him, endearment sharp, but only from horribly concealed fear. “Vhenan, look at me!” 

Warbling silk and desperate lilt tried again, but it found no purchase on his blackening mind, on its shaking walls as Fane curled into himself tighter, the pain climbing and climbing and climbing to where he wished he would die! It hurt! It hurt! Why did it hurt?! Why couldn’t he just answer the cries with one of his own that said, ‘Enough! Begone!’?! It had been so easy in the past when the ‘faithful’ had cheered ‘Inquisitor’, so why couldn’t he admonish these ones!?

“The soul knows what the mind cannot bear.”, Flemeth’s infuriating crypticism came forward once again, somehow piercing black, piercing reverent roars. “Our minds seal away the darkest parts of our souls to naively protect itself, but all it takes is one, just one, well placed key to unlock the door.” The sound of shifting grass and assured footsteps came forward as did the witch’s voice with a painful question. “...Isn’t that so, Aterian?”

The utterance of that dreadful word, title, name, or whatever it was only made him let out an enraged snarl before more pain had him actively tearing a few strands out from his head, but he didn’t feel their sting. He wished he could have, for their ire would be less than his mind’s! Two hands appeared to carefully wrap around his wrists, attempting to still his frenzied yanking somewhat, but Fane only snarled again, jerking away from blue. No, no! Blue wouldn’t be tarnished by black! He wouldn’t let it! 

“Enough, Mythal!”, Solas commanded, voice sharp and snapping. It would have caused Fane to blink in surprise and bewilderment, knowing how much the Elvhen ‘goddess’ mattered to his sky, but he was not in the right place to care about anything as it was all shrouded in black. “Do you seek a rampage?! Have I not warned against that in the past?!”

“Worry not, old friend. As always, your dragon is in no danger from me.”, Flemeth said, seemingly trying to talk down a wolf that intended to bite, voice coming closer as if she were standing beside him now. “This is but a push, not a shove. He must remember all that was forgotten. I am just providing the key.”

“He is not mine. He is his own.”, Solas practically growled before he heaved a steadying sigh, cooling himself, even as Fane could feel, between the pounding and pulsating, how much heat was exuding from him. “And what, may I ask, are you attempting to unlock? A beast? Something that does not exist?!” His sky’s voice rose again before it leveled out with another sigh, wrangling itself back as surely as Fane was attempting to do for himself, clawing and yanking at his scalp as it burned.

“You don’t know either, then. Hm.”, the woman muttered under her breath, but Fane heard. He heard. Just like he could hear the cheers of those he didn’t know! “Do you fear him? Do you fear what he could do to you, to me?”, Flemeth asked next, more forward, more straight, completely dodging around Solas’ own inquiries and the sky did not press, it only lashed out.

“I fear what this could do to him!”, Solas barked, the thud of a knee coming down next to where Fane was now rocking back and forth in his doubled over position. “Fane. Fane!”

“Shhhuuut...up!”, Fane hissed out before choking on a harsh gasp, more pain blooming throughout his head to where he slammed a hand down onto the ground; the one with the Anchor. 

...And the result of such a desperate action only made him see more ebony.

Local wolf god attempts to get his mother figure and lover (who are both different types of dragons) to get along. It does not go well. At all. 

Tagging: @noire-pandora @oxygenforthewicked @shift-shaping @dreadfutures @mywitchcultblr @aymayzing @varric-tethras-editor @rosella-writes @the-dreadful-canine and any one else who’d like to share! X3