Sisters of Tevinter

All The Time In The World

       Jor's ears were ringing. Her skin was swallowed by layers of pins and needles, as if her whole body had fallen asleep, blood constricted and congealed. The first thing she noticed- was that her calves were soaked. The second thing? People were yelling. Steel rattled, her head hurt. 

        Something lunged for her, splashing through the dim light of the chamber. "Fu-" Jor coughed and spun out of the way, high stepping in an unsteady circle in knee deep water. A knight of some kind with a jagged Tevinter helmet came at her again, swinging his sword. 

         "Where did they come from?" Another shouted, bracing his blade against an ivory staff as a shape shoved him away. 

         Jor whipped a blade from her belt and ducked a slash from her opponent's sword, darting to one side and turning to throw the dirk straight for the soldier's neck. He dropped like a stone. The shadow turned and sent an arc of concentrated electricity arcing through the water to catch Jor's knight across the leg, frying him from the inside out. 

            He collapsed with a splash. Dorian lifted his staff, drawing the deadly light back in to disperse in a crack of thunder over his head. Silence. 

           Water dripped steadily from the ceiling. The walls were stone, iron portcullis blocked dark entryways on both sides of the chamber. Crystals of softly pulsing scarlet climbed the corners, smooth edges faceted and casting the water in hues of blood. 

            Dorian took a few sloshing steps to kneel beside an armored corpse. "Ah- yes, these would be Venatori."

            "Where the fuck are we?" Jor hissed, fishing her abandoned dirk from the frigid water and slamming it back into its sheath. 

             "Not where." Dorian shook his head and rose slowly. "...When."

            Jor's racing heart made it increasingly hard to breathe. She thought for sure something slimy brushed against her leg. "He sent us through time?" 

            "I think he meant to kill us." Dorian shrugged. "Lucky." 

            The scholar took a deep, shuddering breath. She wanted to grapple the mage around the neck and strangle him. You did this, she wanted to scream. But she had no proof of that. Perhaps this really was just a coincidence of unpredictable magic. "What are Venatori?" she asked slowly. 

           Dorian scowled as he rose. "A cult of Tevinter supremacists. They serve some kind of long dead god- or a New one, I'm not sure yet. They call it the Elder One."

            Jor shook her head, looking around the softly glowing and flooded room. "This is red lyrium."

            "So it would seem." 

            "We need to get out of here." 

            "I wholeheartedly agree." 

           The scholar sighed and rubbed her wrists, feeling ill. "There is a way to get back, right? To our time?" 

            "I'd hazard a guess." Dorian sloshed to the closest portcullis, running his hands over the iron musingly. Jor knelt beside one of the corpses. He looked to be some kind of guard, in maybe his late forties. The scholar removed his helmet and grimaced as she searched the plates beneath his armor and the shawl around his neck. Her fingers closed around something cold and solid, and she drew an ornate iron key from the folds of fabric. 

             "Here." 

             Dorian turned as the rogue tossed him the key, catching it to examine in the soft red light. "Oh, good." He fit the key into the lock and pushed against the portcullis. It groaned but didn't budge. Again, the young man heaved. The same result. Jor hung back, the water leaking through her boots and her trousers clinging to her skin. She folded her arms.