From above, Cullen watched the magic of the mark slowly go dark. The lava that had drowned her was steaming black and her slender fingers fell lifelessly. He had, despite her order, organized the soldiers in case she indeed needed aid, but she was already gone. Silence fell all through the Upper Courtyard as everyone tried to truly see if the Inquisitor was dead. Even Ser Aeron and the mage were cautiously inspecting the place where she was entombed. He too was in a state of shock having to breathe out of his mouth as his heart pounded against his battered breastplate. She had saved him at no small cost to her own self; a cost that could now be potentially fatal. His injuries were an afterthought as his mind stared blankly at all that remained of her. It all happened so suddenly, how could she be gone? It was as if his mind couldn't wrap around it. How many times has she come back from the dead or damn near close to it? Did she finally go too far this time, as Aeron said? For revenge?
Suddenly, an otherworldly roar rumbled from beneath their feet. Looking down, he held a closed fist up to the men as the pool that held the Inquisitor swirled and liquified once more. Another roar shook the keep and a bright green flash blinded them momentarily. The statue arm bent, grasping the ground once more as a molten form rose from within the earth. At first, it was difficult to differentiate the different parts that made up Evelyn, aside from the untouched arm, but when the figure stood to full height, it was certainly that of a woman. The slag spat flame and embers up after her as if she was Andraste reborn of fire. Her arms were raised intertwined with each other above her head, as her eyes opened. They were white, like the hot core of a forge and he found them so bright it was almost painful to look at.
As her arms gently glided down to her sides, the wings of the Phoenix spread forth, but unlike before, they didn't dissipate but held the form of the flame like her body. The haunting melody she hummed filled the keep with its echo. Her arms floated about as if conducting the tune, but instead, she was actually dispelling the blizzard that had swallowed Skyhold. She had almost banished it completely when the ice mage tried countering her.
A quick snap of her head to glare at the mage was followed by Evelyn's commanding voice, "You. This is my home and my people. You will pay." The hulking ice form that was once a small slender woman, held no readable expression, she simply twitched with the crackle of the red lyrium that was eating away at her.
"And what of me, love?" He couldn't see his face from where he stood, but by the Inquisitor's scowl, he bet it was something like a wicked grin. Rather than answer with words, she spat a wad of lava at his face. On the contact, he groaned and screamed as it burnt a hole through his cheek and jaw. It was then, with that small act, that he knew some part of Evelyn was still conscious through the control of the red lyrium. He couldn't help but smile slightly at it despite the circumstances.
With Aeron distracted, she dipped her right arm into the pit of lava gathering a slew of it about her arm. He watched transfixed, watching her heat and sculpt her unmarked hand into obsidian. With a hard strike to the heated rock, the shine of the glassy black edge flickered in the dim light. He recalled once Master Harrett explaining to an apprentice that if crafted with great care, the volcanic glass could make the sharpest edge of any known material, even metal. The broken shards that had fallen from it stuck to her body like armor plating. Her appearance was breathtaking to those too naïve to know what was going on inside of her and the evil that had transformed her into this fiery angel.
Looking to his right, sweeping his gaze across all the people watching as enraptured in what was unfolding before them as he was, he also knew, should she win there was bound to be trouble in subduing her as before at Haven. Not to mention even in her current form, she had a hole in her chest. Slowly and quietly, he gave an order to his nearby Lieutenant to hold position as she went in search of Cassandra. They had preparations to make.
***
As Ryker wailed and nursed his flame-eaten face, Evelyn contended with Eira. The woman was no longer lucid, her mind having been wiped from this plane of existence. She knew she was dealing with a weapon, one that would fight until she physically could no longer function. The animalistic survival instinct was the only thing driving her, one of them needed to die. With her new blade "in" hand, she launched herself into battle.
Eira had become slow the more the ice began to weigh her down, which allowed her to easily dodge around her looking for a weak spot. Having found none, she began to make one slowly chipping away at a spot she had gone blind to. She could no longer move her neck as the ice moved to protect her in a cocoon. Feverishly hacking away at her, she realized that every block and shard that had broken off her body was being magically propelled at Skyhold and its people. Looking back seeing the consequences of her progress, she tried to think of something else, but the drilling pain in her temple compelled her to keep going. It was unsympathetic toward the protection of her soldiers and friends, and her arms moved against her will.
Distracted, with a great swing the Phoenix was pummeled into the fortress wall when she turned about suddenly. Taking the opportunity to change tactics and yet, follow the red lyrium's will to kill, she flew with her fiery wings right for the ice mage. Grabbing her mid-air with great effort, the Phoenix's wings glided them into the molten pool. Eira tried to free herself, expending more mana than she had the right to, breaching the surface only to be pulled back down. Lava splashed and plonked about from the two erratic bodies fighting for dominance. Her screams were ear-shatteringly high-pitched as Evelyn held her down with all her strength. The magma turned a dark red as the ice mage's movements slowed until they stopped altogether.
Vaulting back up, she was met by a Templar's sword to the gut. There were cries and gasps all about, as their captive audience had returned. Staggering back a few steps, what should've been a killing blow, proved fatal to only the metal blade, which had liquified in her superheated core.
"My turn," with grace and agility the Phoenix lunged plunging her glass blade into him pulling up slightly on it. She snarled at him, but when his shock had fled, his face softened more than she had ever seen it before. The red blinked out of his eyes and for the next few moments, the true Ryker Aeron came through.
"It's alright my love," his hand caressed her, catching fire but he no longer felt pain, "I will await you beside the Maker to be united for all eternity." His one remaining hand pulled her lips to him in a kiss of death. In moments, his body was nothing but charred ash, carried out of Skyhold by the stiff mountain wind.
Before she could process all that had happened, she had one more enemy to deal with; the one within. A deal's a deal, release me. The magic of the anchor suddenly awoke as the red lyrium tried to tap the source. She cried out at the pain as her hand extended out not of her own volition. You want me for the anchor, now? Do you seek its secrets of power as you have mine? What are you? Who is your master? The song ground out a sickening sound, making her cringe as if she had a pounding headache. Out of the corner of her squinted eyes, she saw Cassandra and the remaining Templars running down the stairs. I should've known better than to make a deal with a demon, but now the Templars will quiet you. It screamed at her in alien phrases, throwing her down on her back, howling in pain as if a thousand needles were prickling her skull.
Knowing its time was short, it tried to open a rift, but a barrier of some kind sealed over her still-human-looking hand. Solas, Sorin, Dorian, Vivienne, and Ilara were in tow, and the three male mages combined their power preventing the anchor's use. The more the poison in her veins struggled the more pain it reaped upon her, and for a moment she truly thought she was going to die before the cool sensation of Templar magic began to calm the fire within. Cassandra coordinated the effort and with each wave, her molten form gradually changed back into flesh and blood. Feeling the red lyrium's grasp slip from her, she asserted her will over it, allowing the Templars to purge her of all mana. Completely drained, she flipped over trying to weakly cover her naked body, coughing up more blood.
Vivienne fade stepped throwing a cloak about her and Ilara was there a moment later hugging her to her chest. They laid her on her back, pulling the blanket partially down to tend to her wound, which she could now feel. She groaned deliriously as shadows converged above her.
How bad is it? The glow of healing magic at work blotted out their faces, as did the blue sky above. She closed her eyes tightly in reaction to the pain.
Ilara dear, you did wonders in the little time you had before, but I fear it is too hard to tell the extent of what the red lyrium has done, let alone the beating we just witnessed. We need to do some tests.
What about the mark? Is it stable?
No, it will take me some time to attune it back to a less heightened state. She heard herself moan in agony. It's causing her no small amount of pain, as you can see.
Really, Chuckles? I thought the gaping chest wound accounted for that, but what do I know?
Evie! I'm here little sis! Can she hear me? Someone tell me what the fuck going on!? Can you do nothing for the pain? Cassandra?
Come, let them work. I'll explain over here.
Uh, is that what I think it is? I'm going to be sick...
Dorian dear, rather than fainting, go fetch us some lyrium, we're going to need it. Commander, would you be able to organize some men to move her into the infirmary? I don't think we need an audience for this.
Right away. You men there…! Her head raised, making an indecipherable sound.
Shh, Evie you need to hold still. Just hang in there!
What was that!? That sound didn't sound like a good sound, is she alright!?
Bull darling, take Lord Trevelyan here somewhere to wait.
Yes, ma'am. Come on, the boss is in the best hands. You're not helping by…
Enchanter Vivienne, my men and I are ready to move the Inquisitor on your word.
We need to do it now, time is of the essence. Have your men slowly place her on the sled. Any sudden movements could kill her, mind you. Wait, Solas what is happening?
By Andraste's flame, she moving too much! Henley! Hold her legs! Commander, her head! She felt the callouses scrape against the sensitive skin of her neck and face.
"Cullen, it hurts..." she weakly sobbed out, vaguely feeling him wipe her tears.
Maker, why is she still awake? Shouldn't she be in the Fade by now? Varric, don't you have that powder?
On it, Curly! Give me one second... here, knockout powder.
A cloth was gently laid on her face, Don't fight it, Evelyn, we'll see you through this, I promise. She breathed deep and within moments she was out of pain walking the Fade.
***
"What's the status of our fortifications?" Leliana asked with a heavy sigh.
It had been two days and the Inquisitor was still not awake. Unlike her, Cullen had not slept for those forty-eight hours seeing to securing their base. The purplish bags under his eyes had not gone unnoticed by the other advisors, though he knew the three women purposely said nothing of it. They had all been through an ordeal the past week, beginning with the Inquisitor's intervention and ending in a red lyrium-fueled battle down in the Lower Courtyard. His left arm was in a sling, having been fractured by Aeron, stubbornly receding into his old habits of suffering rather than using magic to heal it. Despite this, just like after the loss at Haven, if he could stand, he could work which is about all he had been doing. The Dorian and surgeon had checked on him amidst his duties and his valet kept a hot pot of fresh coffee at the ready in his office at all times. To top it off his misery, preparations for Adamant had been suspended until the Inquisitor awoke and her health reassessed which resulted in a complete change in his timeline.
"The walls sustained minor damage, but the portcullis is a mess. Master Gatsi believes the whole lot of it needs to be replaced. Our carpenters are beginning work on it now, but it will be another week and a half before we have a gate." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand, "Out of pure luck, a Sergeant of mine is a geologist by profession and claims the magma pool has cooled and is not dangerous. We'll have some workers start to level it tomorrow, so for now," turning to Josephine, "tell the nobles coming and going they'll just have to go around it. All in all, it could've been much worse." He placed his board down to take a sip of his coffee.
"I wish my report was as hopeful, but we have several small fires, so to speak, to put out," rarely was Josephine ever so grim. She sighed heavily as if wondering where to begin, "Firstly, I've tried my best to control the accounts of the battle being sent out by our visiting dignitaries and guests, but I'm afraid some are unflattering in their description of events. From her mock engagement to her murder of the Knight-Commander, I've had my hands full trying to spread an accurate account of all the information that was released at the trial. Unfortunately, this is the sort of news that the vultures salivate for and the false rumors and gossip are already out of hand."
"I have my agents intercepting what they can out of Skyhold. The ones stationed in the cities have also quelled what publications they could with rousing suspicion. Is there anything, rather anyone, you need help convincing of the truth in particular?" The Spymaster tilted her head like mischievous a cat.
"No Leilana, I do not think that will be necessary. For every ridiculous tale, there are at least two more glowing ones of her heroism." Josephine fussed over her notes, straightening all the edges and corners to exact precision, and he realized he had never seen matters weigh so heavily on her, "Many have sent prayers and some Chantries have held a vigil for her. News of the abuse she suffered in the Circle has garnered sympathy and empowered others -both mages and Templars alike - to voice their concerns over the Chantry's management, or lack thereof, of such serious incidents. Naturally, Lord Seeker Lucius has denounced the Inquisitor as an abomination that needs to be collared and fabricates her hatred of Templars." Taking a breath to slow the creeping frustration in her voice, she went on, "Additionally, Emperor Gaspard has strongly denounced all accounts that put her in an ill light, which has greatly aided my staff's efforts, and thanks to the Inquisitor's work in Ferelden, the people have more receptive of our story. With public opinion still so favorable, King Alistair and Queen Elissa have also made their support of the truth known."
"Lord Trevelyan tells me his family has played no small part in wielding their influence in the Free Marches," Cassandra added.
Lady Montilyet nodded earnestly, "Yes, forgive me, it slipped my mind. I'm just--"
"Overwhelmed. We understand, Ambassador." Cassandra's voice was solemn.
Cullen passed his coffee over to her, quirking an eyebrow in invitation. She hesitated looking at the mug but took a sip. As always, she was too polite to ever give offense and simply commented, "Commander, how do you drink it like this? Skyhold can afford sugar and cream enough to supply your coffee-drinking habits, I assure you."
He chuckled, "Too sweet."
"Says the man who pockets any unattended blueberry scones as breakfast is cleared," the Nightingale smiled knowingly at him, "don't think it has gone unseen."
He simply rolled his eyes playfully at her, "We all have our vices. At least everyone can agree mine is tasteful, unlike your obsession with gaudy shoes."
Before she could object, Cassandra butted in, "Can we bicker childishly later and get back to it."
Leliana leaned back turning to her, with a catty attitude, "Are we keeping you from something more pressing? Lord Trevelyan for instance?"
"Or reading Swords & Shields," the words accidentally popped out before his caffeinated-addled brain could rightfully stop it. He froze slowly moving his eyes up to meet her glare.
Cassandra's face flushed beet red as she stuttered, unable to vocalize her outrage. She let out a fiery breath and rubbed the back of her neck. "You two will pay," she growled out jabbing a finger at them both.
Leliana huffed, "Now who's being childish?" Despite the teasing, the slow smiles from the other three seemed to persuade the Seeker to join in their brief respite from the weight of their duties of late. Maker knows not one ounce of levity had been seen in the past few days anxiously awaiting any word on the Inquisitor's condition. The meals he had attended saw them all with their noses buried in reports or they left early to deal with an urgent matter due to taking on her duties. Evelyn's companions had even been uncharacteristically morose. The few times he had gotten over to the infirmary to check on her, there had always been at least two of them on hand sitting with her. Each time they asked if he'd like to sit with her, but he declined, asking instead for the latest update from Ilara and Vivienne.
He hadn't had the time to adequately process what happened between them. There were so many questions he needed answered by her. He was at such a loss at what to think and feel, only having felt this conflicted one other time in his life after leaving the Order. There was little doubt that she had spurned him solely due to Aeron's blackmailing, but he had gone through the loss of her and had believed for months that he was not enough for her. Those feelings were real, and they left their raw mark on his heart.
"How are you faring?" He did a double-take when he realized the Spymaster was speaking to him.
"I'll mend, in time for Adamant, not to worry," lifting his lame arm. The others had already started towards the door, while Leliana stayed behind, not hiding at all that she wanted to speak with him privately.
She shifted her weight to one hip and crossed her arms, "That is good news, but I was referring to up here." She prodded his forehead, then his chestplate, "And here. She saved your life."
He sighed heavily, "How would you feel? It's all my fault she'd laying there unconscious."
"That's not true. You know as well as I that she would've stepped in front of any one of us to take the blow, though I understand why you believe, in particular, it was because of your past relationship."
He stared at her like a sad Mabari, "And what of before, when I walked in on their dinner the night of his arrival, could I have done something then and ended it all before it began?"
"The man had thought of everything, I'll give him that. He even had the foresight that we'd put him to trial and planned an escape, seduced one of our own to help him, and managed to give her red lyrium, let alone smuggle it into Skyhold. I almost wish I had him as one of my agents. His talents were clearly wasted by the Order." She eyed him, apprising if her words had any effect, "But no, I don't believe you could've done anything without condemning the Inquisitor and the Enchanter to a fate worse than death. There were many reasons for her to keep it from us and endure such a man, all the while doing what was required of her. If she hadn't our mission in Orlais would've failed."
"How comforting that she has not suffered in vain," heavy sarcasm lacing his words. He rubbed a hand down his face, "Maker, the way she told me she was in pain… I've seen my share of death and torture, you know that, but hearing it from her…" he stared off, but she was quick to place a hand on his arm shaking him of the visions.
"I heard from Cassandra. It's not easy for any of us to see her go through this again. She'll need you when she wakes."
"I'm not sure I'm ready to be there like that for her again. She may have just been acting, but it was all real for me."
"I see. Well, as things are, it seems you have time to think about it. And Cullen," her voice could be sweet and soft when she needed it to be, "for the love of Andraste, get some rest before I have Varric pay you a visit with his special powder."