In League With The Wolf - The Elves of Fen'Harel Book 2 (Dragon Age)

Leaving Captivity

The elven man had serious, severe features, a bald head, eyes filled with a ferocity that was not in his voice. A staff lay across his knees. He didn't wear a robe, like most mages, but rough olive travel clothes. "Can you hear me, da'len?" He asked her softly.

Tilda nodded, sitting up. Her joints groaned and protested as she did so. The elf put out a hand in protest, but didn't stop her.

The man who had beaten her was glaring down at her, though his face was pale with fear. Beside him was a stern looking woman in armour, her dark hair short and severe, a livid scar across one cheek.

Tilda's eyes settled on the emblem on her chest. "Seeker!" She hissed, backing up against the wall so quickly it hurt. If a Seeker was taking her, she was in for a whole world of pain. The Seekers of Truth were the Chantry's best warriors.

The woman looked surprised and then regretful. "Perhaps I should no longer wear it." She muttered, looking at her chest.

"I didn't hurt anyone." Tilda croaked out. "I left my Circle and stayed alone. I surrendered rather than hurt anyone." She insisted. "They said mages killed the Divine!" Her voice shook.

"Hush now." The elf said, approaching her. "Cassandra is no longer a Seeker. And I am an apostate, like yourself. My name is Solas. You are welcome to leave here with us."

Nodding, she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Her robe was filthy and stained,and she stumbled on her way up the stone stairs and into, to her surprise, a ruined keep. The roof was largely missing, but the structure remained intact and was brimming with people. A whole settlement had formed inside it seemed.

"Where am I?" Tilda asked.

"What's going on?" A new voice asked. A Dalish elf was approaching. She was slim and pretty, with dark blue eyes and a shiny head of black hair, sleek like a raven's wing, markings adorning her face. "Who's this?" She nodded at Tilda, leaning on Solas's arm. Beside her was a dwarf armed with an enormous crossbow. He had an open, friendly face, sandy hair bound behind his head. He examined Tilda with quizzical eyes.

"These people kept and tortured this elven mage." Solas said angrily to the woman. "Since before the conclave."

A robed woman looked shocked. "The refugees were here before us. They said there was a dangerous prisoner. I am sorry, Herald." She too addressed the woman, who looked uncomfortable at the attention.

"Just...don't let this happen again." The elf sighed. "Help the refugees if you can." She glanced at her companions, "Let's go."

The colossal metal gate was raised as they passed beneath it into a windy, but gloriously sunny day. Tilda gazed up at the sky, breathing in deep lungfuls of fresh air, letting the sun kiss her skin. She had no staff, no weapon, but she was free. Or at least, she thought so.

"Maker's teeth,I hate people like that." The dwarf complained. "Varric Tethras, at your service." He flashed a smile at Tilda. "Storyteller, adventurous rogue..." Cassandra made a disgusted noise. "You know you love me really, Seeker." She shook her head vehemently. "And this is the fabled Herald of Andraste." He nodded to the Dalish elf.

"Varric..." The woman sighed. "I believe in my own gods." She gave Tilda a small smile. "My name is Ellana Lavellan. By some mixed blessings, I find myself the Inquisition's figurehead."

Tilda just looked at her them blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How long had you been down there?" Varric asked, cautiously.

"I'm not sure." Tilda shrugged. "A few weeks? My name is Tilda Hadvan. I was at the White Spire when it collapsed. I left for Ferelden and then those people took me."

"So you don't know about the Breach? The Inquisition? Anything?" Cassandra asked sharply. At Tilda's confused frown, she spun her about, "Look!"

It was a colossal tear in the sky. It glowed green with the unnatural light she associated with the Fade, crackling like an enormous storm. The clouds around it swirled in a vortex almost like a tornado, and the green light shone down upon the mountains.

"What is it?" She breathed.

"That is the Breach." Solas explained. "A tear in the Veil. The Divine organised a Conclave to try and end the mage and Templar hostilities. There was an explosion. We still don't understand why, but it killed everyone there, and tore apart the sky, unleashing demons upon the world. Other Fade rifts have opened all over southern Thedas."

"By the Maker." Tilda sat down abruptly onto the grass. So that's what her captors had meant when they said mages killed the Divine. She wondered if she had known anyone there. The First Enchanters, perhaps Grand Enchanter Fiona herself, maybe kindly Enchanter Rhys who had suffered enough. She didn't associate herself with the Circle mages, not really, but it grieved her to think they would be gone, just like that.

"I'm sorry." Varric put a hand on her shoulder. "It was luck that Cassandra and I weren't there. Lavellan here was the only survivor."

"How did anyone survive that?" She looked at the older elf in respect.

"I don't know." Lavellan looked irritable.

"She walked out of the Fade and collapsed, with a strange mark on her hand." Cassandra said. "The mark is the only thing that can seal the rifts. Many see her as being chosen. They call her the Herald of Andraste."

"Oh and the Seeker here and her friends have formed an Inquisition to get to the bottom of it." Varric added. "So basically, the world's falling apart."

"Oh." Tilda muttered. "I see." There was a pause. "What was this place?" Tilda asked them, staring back at the ruin.

"Winter Watch tower. The refugees from the fighting between your people and the Templars had holed up there." Cassandra said.

"They're not my people!" Tilda snapped as the former Seeker raised an eyebrow. "I apologise."

"At any rate." Cassandra ignored the interruption, "After the Breach opened, a cult sprang up there. They believe the Breach is the Maker's judgement upon us all." Tilda noticed Lavellan rolling her eyes at this. The Dalish elf at least didn't seem to believe herself to be the Maker's chosen.

"You're welcome to go your own way." Lavellan said to her, "Don't feel obligated to come with us, but you are more than welcome to join us at Haven. I think we could use every person we can find. Mages especially."

Tilda debated it. She was a solitary person, but was still feeling the effects of captivity. They seemed like decent, well-meaning people, even if one of them was a Seeker.

"Alright, Haven it is. Lead on."