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

The Lyrium Well

As they approached, both Marcus and Tilda had their hands tied. Tilda had to get rid of her staff, so that no one would know she was a mage. Solas took Marcus's daggers, and they were hauled up the castle, looking defeated as demons cavorted not far from their position.

It was even worse than the village, Tilda thought in dread. Old bloodstains sprayed on the stones, bodies nailed to fence posts, still rotting. Piles of skulls lay disregarded. The guard who met them kicked one out of the way and it rolled, landing so that sightless eye sockets stared into the infinite chaos of the Breach.

"Claudette?" The guard said, "Where have you been? Who are these?" His eyes were narrowed.

"Maker take you!" Marcus snarled, twisting in Solas's grip, and Solas hit him across the back of the head.

"Solas is one of ours. He's been a spy." Claudette answered. "And look, he found these two, the last of those idiotic Chargers."

The guard's face lit up. "Excellent work. The Elder One will be pleased no doubt. Take the man down to cells. I'll take the woman to interrogation."

Claudette flinched, "I...I thought I would take them both to cells." She stuttered.

"No, there's a space upstairs. That Chantry sister just expired and the well is free." He said bluntly. He wrested Tilda from her grip. "Off we go."

"No!" Marcus said, "Take me instead. She can go to cells." Tilda glanced at him in surprise, but he wasn't looking at her.

"Look at you." The guard laughed. "So brave. But I think I'll keep the girl." Marcus continued to protest as the man grabbed Tilda's ear and twisted. She cried out. "Good little elf. You and I are going to be friends." He smiled creepily.

Panic started to set in as she was pulled aside. She could burn him, she supposed but that would reveal her as a mage. For now, she would have to keep her mouth shut.

The inside of the castle was worse than the outside. It smelt of slaughter, blood and guts, and sewage. Spoilt food rotted on tables and insects crawled over decomposing bodies which she was forced to step over as the man dragged her up several flights of dark shadowy stairs.

There were screams from other rooms and she felt starting to shake as she was pushed into one. A dead Chantry sister lay facedown on the floor in a foamy pool of her own blood. There were spiked cages and grimy instruments of torture laid out as the man fastened her wrists above her head to the wall. 

"Where did you come from?" He asked her roughly. "Who is still out there with you?" She didn't speak and he slapped her, open handed with a mailed fist. Her nose was bleeding, her lip too. She was sure she'd have a black eye as he slapped her again and then punched her in the stomach.

She'd taken worse. She would hold out until the others came, if this was all he would do. The door opened to admit another guard. "We need this room for prisoner Leliana." He ordered.

Leliana? Tilda stared at them.

They unchained her, dragging her out of the room. They kept mentioning the well. What did that mean?

It was at the end of the hall, a crooked wooden door that they opened. The tiny room had a grate in the floor, which they removed. Tilda gasped. "This is the Lyrium well." One of them let out a short laugh. "You won't last more than a few hours in there before you're begging to be released."

Staring into the depths of it, Tilda felt herself shuddering. Beneath the room was a long, thin space, filled with red lyrium. It grew from the walls and floor, huge spiky crystalline nodes, radiating heat. They threw her in and she fell, crashing down, cutting her leg deeply on a spike, screaming out in agony as the lyrium pierced her flesh and doors slammed shut above her.