Ripples in the Pond

1

Notes:

Inspired by "In the Face of Your light" by noverture and "the forest is dark and deep and i've seen you here before" by victoriousscarf on A03, where this story was originally posted. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any images, videos or other things I post on here other than the story. All the characters from Dragon Age belong to Bioware. 

-------

It is peaceful in the darkness. The blaring, bustling world fades seamlessly into obscurity as the deep, strangely serene Void cradles you, whispering faintly.

Let us in.

                            Surrender.

                                                             Let go.

                                                                                              Sleep.

It is innocent and sweet at first, but as time passes, they grow. They scream and shout at you endlessly through your synapses. They rise in power and volume; they are unrelenting and vicious. Trapped between the endless abyss and the voices, Silvhen curls up, knees to chest and hands over his head and ears then a robust, gentle voice rings through him.

"Silence." It commands. One by one the cacophonous voices complied to the noble voice as a deep, precious silence washed over Silvhen like a wave upon the sand.

"Silvhen." The dark walls echo with an eerie, soothing voice. Below him came a fresh, delicate, faint " Silvhen ." Then another husky, firm "Silvhen," came from behind him.

He twirls in the floating abyss searching for the voices and their origins when he is taken by the hand and yanked into a sea of green. Engulfed by the waters of emerald and jade, he grunts as he plummets viciously through the passage before crying out as he is blinded by the light.

There is ringing, distorted buzz, the odor of musk and metal dries his throat and clogs his senses with the taste of charred soot, the smell of singed flesh, and the picture of thousands of corpses covering the earth like a blanket, with crimson painting them and their dull, haunted faces.

His breath is caught in his throat. He takes one step back then another and another until he sprints away from the memory. Everything is fading and falling out of place. He focuses on the light patter of his feet as they kiss the frozen, dark soil. A rhythm begins with his heavy, sharp pants, The Well sings high and melodic as his heartbeat distraught and fierce booms in his chest.

The harsh winter gust howls in his ears and grazes his face with its icy claws. He hiccups, hot tears of silver streaming down his face as he scurries into the shadows and collapses into the fluffy snow. The crunchy sleet icing his heated husk. He curls into it, desperate for the algidity when familiar hushed voices purr in his ears.

What?! He gasps throat hot and dry. They reiterate their purr, but their words are empty. He whimpers, frustrated and tormented. All these years with the Well and he still did not understand it. The Well instructs and he sighs anxiously. Air slips past his pursed lips, long and shaky. He wraps his arms around himself and rocks back and forth.

Not...real...past... memories, this is . . . temporary. It will pass. . . he pauses, gathering his thoughts and capturing them within his mind. I am safe and in control. He reaffirms as the Well's scattered murmurs die down into silence.

He sighs and breathes easy... and bare. He relishes in the serenity and melts into the earth and allows his mind to wander, unbound. The cool, fresh snow all around him, the musty scent of soil and mud in the air, the faint clopping of hooves, the merry laughter of children in the distance, and the hollow roar of an injured animal.