For the Inquisition

From the Ashes

I grimaced as black blood splattered across my armor and face. I grit my teeth and yanked my sword from the demon's carcass. The rift crackled and another demon materialized in front of me. I spun, lashing out with my sword, recoiling as the demon's head rolled to my feet. I caught a glimpse of the commander pulling his own sword out of a rage demon, the creature melting into the stone floor like liquid.

"It's no use, Commander. They're endless." He frowned and glanced around us. We had been at this for hours. Hours of fighting wave after wave of endless demons. My throat was on fire and my muscles barked in pain. I knew the end was approaching, none of us could keep it up for much longer. Three of the soldiers from my squadron had fallen already.

His reply was cut off by the elven woman from the dungeons, the one with the mark on her hand, sprinting in with another squadron at her back along with Seeker Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, and Solas the apostate. She raised her marked hand and a stream of green light flew from her hand to the rift, her silver hair blowing around her face. The demons around us froze, their connection to the rift severed. I breathed a sigh of relief once the weakened demons had slid back into the stones. I sheathed my sword, dreading the long hike back to Haven and my bed.

"Jysaere, look out!" I whirled around to see Cullen reaching towards me. A demon flew out of the floor, knocking me back. My head smacked the stones of the temple floor, my vision blurring before it went dark.

I was back in Tevinter. My arms and legs were strapped to a table as a hooded man stood over me, a glowing brand in his hands. My skin sizzled and my throat was screamed raw as he brought it to the skin over my hip. My vision shifted and I was holding a tray behind a throne, a metal muzzle clamped over my mouth and jaw. Two fingers snapped and I rushed forward, a few drops of wine spilling over the edge of the goblets. A hand snatched one off the tray and I moved back, staying hidden away from view. Then I was in a bedroom, naked except for the muzzle, while hands groped the most intimate parts of me. I closed my eyes as I was violated and used, but I didn't cry. I learned long ago that they didn't like crying.

Then I was on a ship, vomiting into a ceramic jar while I was tucked in a corner, hiding away from the world. I knew they would come for me. I knew I would never truly be safe but for now I was free. Or at least I thought I was. Fereldens hated elves. I starved in the streets, only eating when an elven servant took pity on me and threw me some scraps. I got tired of watching myself fade away so I joined the royal guard. It took me ten years to move up through the ranks. I worked myself nearly to the bone all those years. I flashed through memories of sweat dripping down my back as I practiced for hours with a sword, memories of being told I would never be a captain because I was an elf, memories of the other soldiers with their wandering eyes and hands.

I woke with a start. I was in my quarters, still wearing my armor caked in dried demon blood. I sat up, slowly, due to the pounding in my head. It was slow work getting out of my armor but at last I stood tall in a pair of brown boots that came up to my knees over a pair of tight grey pants. I wore a tight shirt with long sleeves under a leather vest buckled together all up the front. I pulled a red scarf around my neck before undoing my braids, my hair falling in waves around my shoulders. An elven servant opened the door to my quarters, a jar of poultice in her fingers.

"Ah, Captain, you're awake." She smiled warmly at me. All the servants favored me because I treated them as equals, even handing out portions of my pay when I could afford to.

"What happened?" I took the poultice from her and opened the jar, giving it a sniff.

"Elfroot, Captain. Haven has been celebrating, well, as much as we can. There is still a hole in the sky but the breach has stopped expanding, all thanks to the Herald of Andraste." I cocked an eyebrow at her as I massaged the elfroot into my scalp where my head had hit the ground.

"The what?" I asked.

"The elf who walked out of the rift. She can close them with her marked hand." I closed the jar and set it on the water basin below the mirror I was currently looking in.

"She's a mage, correct?"

"Yes, Captain."

"How do we know this power isn't a result of that?"

"Solas, the elven apostate, claims no mage could possess this amount of power." I smiled at the servant.

"Thank you for the information. Where can I find the commander?"

"I believe he is currently in a war council meeting in the chantry but they should finish soon." I nodded and pushed open the door, my feet carrying me quickly without the weight of my sword or shield.

I could hear the muffled voices of several people through the thick wooden door at the end of the chantry main hall. I hopped up on a barrel and leaned against the stone wall, cleaning underneath my fingernails with a dagger while I waited. I grimaced at the sheer amount of black blood that was still caked under them. The Herald was the first to emerge, followed closely by Seeker Pentaghast.

"Herald!" I dropped to the floor and held a hand up to get her attention. She cocked a silver eyebrow, the tattoos on her face warping with the movement, and stopped as I approached them. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Ariess Lavellan." I tucked my hair behind one ear and her grimace turned into a grin.

"Ariess? 'Silver elf'?" I asked. She shook her head.

"My mother was quite literal. And you are?"

"Jysaere Livera, Captain of the third squadron."

"'Unyielding blood'. It suits you. I saw you in the temple. I didn't know if you made it out or not." I shrugged.

"I've suffered worse injuries. I wanted to meet another high ranking elf. I wanted you to know that we both made it despite the shape of our ears. I knew it would be important to you." Her green eyes softened, her smile growing sympathetic.

"You and I are going to be very good friends, I can already feel it." Her fingers found mine and she gripped my hand. Even through my glove I could feel the chill of her cold skin.

"We must get to the Hinterlands. We cannot dally any longer." The seeker rested a hand on Lavellan's shoulder.

"We are going to speak more when I return." She dropped my hand and headed for the exit of the chantry. I smiled to myself as I watched her go, her long coat fluttering in the mountain wind as they pulled the doors open.

"You're alive!" I whirled around to see Cullen striding towards me with a large grin on his face.

"Did you really doubt that I would pull through?" I asked, feeling instantly relaxed in his presence.

"I see you've met the Herald." My smile tightened.

"Commander if I may," he nodded. "It's alright to call her that in public if that's what we want them to see her as but she is Dalish. The markings on her face mean she honors the Dalish gods. It would be an insult to call her the Herald of Andraste in private as well. It would be like calling you the servant of Fen'harel."

"You are quite right, Jysaere. Thank you for correcting me." He shook his head. "I wish I knew more about Dalish culture so that won't happen again."

"I can teach you, if you'd like. I was Dalish once." He paused, a frown creasing his mouth.

"About that, you said you were a slave once. I would love to hear the tale of how a slave became a captain of the Inquistion."

"That story is not a pleasant one and this is not the right time for it. Perhaps later? Maybe after a lesson in Dalish culture?" He laughed breathily.

"I'll meet you at your quarters tonight then, after dinner." My eyes widened as he made to leave.

"Wait-"

"I will see you then." He called back at me before disappearing from the chantry.