Lost

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She kicked up wisps of snow as she struggled through white earth.

It was silver despite the dark. Her skin was ice, her bones were iron. The hike was demanding, trudging up hills and skidding down them in cruel flurries. She searched for survivors from Haven, searched for signs of life, for hope. All was fleeting before her eyes in a torrent of sound.

Wolves howled. Wind rushed. And she followed their call.

"Fen'Harel ma ghilana..."

Shadows moved ahead of her, above her, weeping their song to the moon. They led her. She followed, longing for the wolves and their night. She walked on, wishing for their secrets and their transcendent embrace.

And Fen'Harel. He led her. She followed. She sought him like she had when she'd returned to the heaving Dalish camp in bygone years, when she'd sought herself in the woods. She pursued him when she was close to home, when she was far away.

The emerald mark sustained her, but the magic was draining. As the wolves' song overwhelmed her sense of giving in and she twisted through billows of snow, she willed herself onward.

"Fen'Harel ma halam..."

Her mother in tears. Her mother wanting to tear her apart, restrained only by the Keeper. Dust and bone. It was the past...

The past was fire and death. Haven was gone.

"The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero to save us all..."

It was only yesterday that she spoke to Solas, that she was full of hope and impish flirtation. What a fool she had been.

Together with Solas and the others, she endured the trail to the Conclave and closed the Breach. The victory was won. So it seemed.

With celebrations underway and revelry filling the air over Haven, the monster called Elder One struck. He called himself Corypheus. The bastard took everything, destroyed everything, turned her world to ash and ruin. Memories blurred, screams turned to silence. So much death...

"They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds..."

She gained some scrap of victory when she launched a trebuchet and made the decision to bury Haven, contaminating the course of his assault. She survived Corypheus and his dragon and that was something, wasn't it? She clung to it, clung to the expectation that'd sustained her with fire breathing down her neck.

Yet of all things, it was the lonesomeness that persevered. She cursed herself, pursuing the tears and the screams, trying to remember the rage as it built again and again. For all the time she spend trying to avoid the masses of her own clan, she'd grown accustomed to Haven and its stir. Seeing it now as only death was agony.

Who was left? Where were they? She rattled off names, taking role call in her head. Solas...

"Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit..."

She couldn't die out here in the damn cold.

She wanted to see his face again, had to hear his voice again. He saved her, stopped the mark from killing her. His touch calmed the jagged burn etched in her hand. But that same touch sparked fires in her heart.

He intoxicated her, his blue eyes oceans of knowledge and solitude. She never met anyone who travelled the Fade before, never met anyone who actually spoke to spirits. The idea was spellbinding. He was spellbinding.

"I will not believe it destroyed until I see the shattered fragments with my own eyes..."

She trudged on, perception fading in and out. Thoughts looming from the knowing to the absurd. The wolves speaking to her. Clouds turning to faces of people she knew. Air tasting of ale. Mouth filled with dust. Elfroot. Fire. More hideous fire.

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