19 Guardian 9:41
The War Room’s tense atmosphere thickened with every word from Solas. Cullen stood at the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening as he gripped its edge. His mind was a storm, but he forced himself to focus on the words being spoken. Solas continued to explain the catastrophic implications of the Breach, but Cullen’s thoughts kept slipping, pulled relentlessly back to her.
She still wears it.
The image of the ring on Ariana’s hand burned in his mind. It had been so long, and yet, there it was—a small, silent defiance against the years and the distance. Did she wear it as a token of the past? Or as a promise, still unbroken? The thought clawed at him, equal parts hope and guilt.
“…this was no accident,” Solas said, his voice drawing Cullen back. “Someone caused the Breach.”
Cullen forced his attention to the elven mage. “How?” he demanded, his voice colder than he intended.
Solas’s calm, measured tone did nothing to ease Cullen’s tension. “Such a rupture requires a deliberate act, one steeped in ancient magic. Whatever its origin, it was no mere mishap.”
Leliana leaned forward, her sharp gaze unyielding. “And the Veil itself? How much longer before it collapses entirely?”
Solas’s expression grew darker. “Not long. If the Breach is not sealed, demons will pour into this world unchecked. There will be no haven, no sanctuary.”
The gravity of his words sent a ripple of silence through the room. Cullen’s jaw tightened as he glanced toward the doorway, imagining Ariana lying unconscious beyond it. She had barely survived the explosion, and now… And now they want to send her back into the fire.
“We have no choice,” Cassandra said, her voice cutting through the silence. “The mark may be the only thing capable of sealing the Breach.”
Cullen’s head snapped toward her. “She hasn’t even woken up, and you’re already planning to send her to the Breach?” His voice was low, but it carried the weight of his mounting frustration.
“It is not a matter of choice, Commander,” Cassandra shot back. “If she does not act, we are all doomed.”
Solas’s calm voice interjected. “The mark resonates with the Breach. It is a connection, a potential solution. Stabilizing it will give her the strength to close the rifts.” He paused, his gaze steady but tinged with warning. “But there are no guarantees.”
Cullen clenched his fists, his mind rebelling against the inevitability of the situation. Ariana had faced enough—more than anyone should be asked to bear. Yet the world seemed determined to demand more from her. He could feel the familiar weight of his failures pressing down, his inability to shield her from the burdens she never deserved.
Leliana’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “And what of her? Will this kill her?”
Solas’s answer came with maddening composure. “I cannot say. The magic is unstable, and the process will take a toll. But if we do not act, the consequences will be far worse.” He paused, his gaze flickering briefly toward the doorway as if he could see Ariana through the stone walls. “The mark is bound to the Breach, its power expanding as the Breach grows. If we fail to close it, the mark will continue to spread. It will consume her, and she will die regardless. Closing the Breach may be her only chance of survival.”
The room fell silent, the weight of Solas’s words settling heavily over them. Cullen’s stomach churned, his grip tightening on the table until his knuckles turned white. No choice, he thought bitterly. It always comes down to no choice.
Cullen closed his eyes briefly, struggling to steady himself. The weight of the choice before them felt suffocating. He opened his eyes to find the others watching him, their faces reflecting the same grim determination.
“We’ll do whatever it takes to protect her while she does this,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “But she should have a say. She deserves that much.”
“She’ll have her say,” Leliana assured him. “But for now, we prepare.”
The others nodded, beginning to disperse, but Cullen remained rooted in place, his thoughts consumed by the image of her pale face, the glow of the mark that pulsed with unnatural light. She didn’t choose this. But I’ll make sure she survives it.
As he turned to leave, the weight of his unspoken promise settled heavily on his shoulders. You have to survive, Ariana. I’ve failed you too many times before. Never again.
~~~
Ariana’s senses returned in fragments, like pieces of shattered glass. Her head throbbed with a dull, insistent ache, and her body felt weighted, sluggish. Her left hand burned, a steady pulse of pain radiating from her palm. She opened her eyes, the dim light of the room blurring into shapes and shadows. Where am I?
The room was unfamiliar, but the figures by the door weren’t. Valentina and Lamberto, Rangers both, stood guard, their weapons ready. A flicker of recognition tugged at the edges of her hazy thoughts. The Rangers. My Rangers.
“Ariana?” Isabel’s voice drew her fully into the waking world. She turned her head toward the sound, muscles protesting the movement.
“Isabel,” Ariana rasped, her voice rough from disuse. She tried to sit up, but her arms gave out beneath her.
“Slow down,” Isabel said, her voice soft but firm. She was beside her in an instant, her hands steady as they guided Ariana back down. “You’ve been unconscious for days.”
The words barely registered. Ariana’s memories were a jumbled mess—flashes of the Temple, the Conclave, and then… nothing. Her hand twitched, and a sharp, green light flared, sending pain shooting up her arm. She hissed, clutching her wrist as panic set in. “What… what is this?”
Isabel’s calm faltered. “We’re still figuring that out.”
A sharp knock interrupted them. Valentina’s hand moved instinctively to her weapon as the door opened. Two strangers stepped inside. One was a tall woman in armor, her expression sharp and assessing. The other, quieter but no less intense, followed like a shadow.
“We need to speak with her,” the armored woman said brusquely.
Valentina tilted her head, her tone cold. “You can speak. But if you try anything—”
“Stand down,” Isabel interrupted, her gaze fixed on the newcomers. “Let’s hear what they have to say.”
The taller woman stepped closer, her piercing eyes locking onto Ariana. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you where you lie.”
The words hit like a blow. Ariana stared, her mind reeling. “Kill me? What—”
“The Conclave is gone,” the woman said bluntly. “The Divine, the Templars, the mages—everyone. Dead. Except you.”
Dead. The word echoed hollowly in Ariana’s mind. She struggled to make sense of it. “I… I don’t remember,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “What happened?”
The woman’s sharp gaze fell to her left hand, which pulsed faintly with green light. She grabbed Ariana’s wrist without warning, raising it for emphasis. “Explain this.”
Ariana flinched, the pain making her gasp. “I don’t know!” she snapped, wrenching her hand back. “I don’t even know what this is.”
Valentina stepped between them, her voice like steel. “Enough. She’s not your prisoner, Seeker.”
“Seeker,” Ariana echoed bitterly, glaring at the woman. “Cassandra Pentaghast, The Right Hand of the Divine? Figures.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Valentina asked gently, crouching beside her.
Ariana’s breathing slowed as she tried to sort through the fragments of memory. “I was running,” she said slowly. “There were… spiders. And a woman. She reached for me, and then…” She shook her head, frustration mounting. “It’s gone.”
Cassandra’s expression remained hard. “How convenient,” she muttered.
“Convenient?” Ariana snapped, her voice rising despite her exhaustion. “You think I planned this? Do you have any idea what I’ve—”
“Enough.” Isabel’s voice was a sharp rebuke, her hand resting on Ariana’s shoulder. “She’s been through enough without your accusations.”
“We’re taking her to the Breach,” Cassandra said curtly. “She may not remember, but the mark on her hand may be the key to stopping this.”
Ariana’s head swam as the room tilted. “The Breach?” she repeated weakly. “What the hell is the Breach?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Cassandra replied.
With Valentina’s help, Ariana pushed herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily. As they stepped outside, the air hit her like a physical force—cold, sharp, and filled with the faint hum of something unnatural. She looked up and froze.
A massive, churning tear dominated the sky, its green light casting eerie shadows across Haven. It pulsed like a heartbeat, a low hum reverberating through the air.
“What is that?” she whispered, dread settling deep in her chest.
“The Breach,” Cassandra said. “A tear in the Veil. It is growing, and it is killing you.”
Ariana turned to her, disbelief and anger flaring. “Killing me? What the—” She stopped as her gaze caught on her left hand. The mark glowed faintly, the pulsing light casting her fingers in an otherworldly hue. Then her eyes fell to the ring still on her finger, a small anchor amidst the chaos.
Relief washed over her. It’s still here. It’s safe. But the thought was fleeting, replaced by the cold realization that she didn’t understand the mark’s power. Her fingers moved to the leather choker around her neck, unclasping it with practiced ease. She carefully slid the ring onto the worn leather, its weight reassuring as she refastened the choker and tucked it beneath her tunic. She wouldn’t risk losing it to whatever this was.
“Worried about your jewelry?” Cassandra’s voice was sharp, cutting through the moment.
Ariana shot her a glare. “I’m listening, Seeker. You’d be amazed what I can do with my hands while still paying attention.”
Cassandra’s jaw tightened, but she continued. “The mark is tied to the Breach. Every time it grows, the mark spreads. And it is killing you.”
Ariana clenched her fists, her anger a shield against the rising fear. “And you think I did this?” she asked coldly. “You think I wanted this?”
“We don’t know what happened,” Cassandra admitted, though suspicion lingered in her eyes. “But you’re the only one who survived.”
“Then find out!” Ariana snapped. “Stop pointing fingers and do something useful. Or better yet, let me figure out who’s responsible, since you seem so lost.”
Valentina chuckled softly, her hand steady on Ariana’s arm. “There’s the Wolf we know.”
Ariana’s glare softened slightly, her exhaustion catching up to her. She turned back to the Breach, its unnatural light reflecting in her eyes. “Whatever this is,” she muttered, “we’ll stop it. One way or another.”
Valentina nodded. “You’ve got us, Wolf. We’re not going anywhere.”
Cassandra’s lips thinned, but she said nothing more as the group began moving toward the forward camp. Ariana’s jaw clenched as she kept her eyes on the swirling light above. This won’t break me, she promised herself. It never does.
~~~
The sound of combat echoed louder with each step they took, the sharp clash of steel and the guttural cries of demons mixing with the unnatural hum of the Breach. Ariana’s hand throbbed in time with its pulse, each searing ache a reminder of the strange magic now tethered to her. Her fingers gripped the daggers tightly, the familiar weight grounding her in the chaos.
“We’re getting close to the rift,” Cassandra called over her shoulder, her voice as sharp as the frost-bitten wind.
Ariana’s gaze swept across the devastation. Burned wagons lay strewn along the path, their wheels splintered. The faint smell of sulfur lingered in the air, mingling with the acrid stench of charred wood and smoldering debris. In the distance, a jagged green crystal loomed, pulsating with the same eerie energy as the sky above. That’s it, she thought grimly. The source of all this madness.
But as her eyes roamed the battlefield, they caught on a familiar figure—crossbow in hand, firing with calm precision at the swarm of demons surrounding him. Relief surged through her, momentarily lifting the oppressive weight in her chest.
“Varric!” she shouted, her voice carrying both exasperation and gratitude.
The dwarf turned, loosing another bolt before glancing back at her with a grin. “Took you long enough, pup! I was starting to think I’d be fighting these things alone.”
Ariana couldn’t help but smirk as she sprinted toward him, her daggers flashing in the dim light. She dove into the fray, each strike driven by a mix of anger and desperation. Her movements were fluid, her blade finding its mark again and again. The demons fell quickly, dissolving into dark mist, leaving only silence in their wake.
“Nice timing,” Varric said, lowering Bianca. His grin faded slightly as he studied her. “You alright?”
Ariana wiped her blade on her arm, her breath still coming fast. “Ask me when this is over.”
Before she could catch her breath, an elf stepped forward—tall and calm, his sharp gaze locked on her. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and guided her glowing hand toward the rift. The sudden flare of the mark sent a white-hot jolt of pain coursing through her, and she bit back a scream as the energy surged.
The rift flickered, then collapsed with a final pulse of green light. Silence returned.
The elf released her hand, his expression calm. “I am Solas,” he said, his voice smooth and measured. “The mark on your hand reacts to the Breach’s magic. It may be the only thing capable of sealing these rifts.”
Ariana pulled her hand back, flexing her fingers as the pain ebbed. “Well,” she muttered, “at least it’s good for something.”
Varric chuckled. “Still standing. I’ll call it a win.”
She rolled her eyes, sliding her daggers into their sheaths. “The definition of that word is getting pretty broad.”
“Well, the alternative isn’t great” he quipped, though his grin faded slightly as he glanced at her. “You alright, pup?”
“Ask me again when this is over,” she replied, though her voice was quieter now, her gaze shifting toward the smoldering path ahead. “The Rangers?” she asked, her voice low.
Varric’s grin faded entirely. “They’ve held so far, but it’s bad, pup. Real bad. If we don’t close the Breach soon…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “Then we keep moving.”
As they pushed onward, the faint embers of hope Ariana had clung to since waking began to dim. The Rangers were scattered, the Temple destroyed, and her own body betrayed her with this mark. But beneath all that, another thought crept in, one she had tried to bury beneath focus and resolve.
Cullen.
Riley had told her he was missing, and some part of her had hoped—hoped he would be here, among the Templar leadership at the Conclave as the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall. But if he had been at the Temple… She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. No. I would know if he were gone.
But then the reality of his absence settled like a weight on her chest. If he hadn’t been at the Conclave and had been missing for over four months… What are the chances he’s still alive? The sinking dread clawed at her, and she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead.
As they trudged forward, Varric fell into step beside her. “You’ve got to tell me, what happened back there? At the Temple?”
Ariana sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t remember much. One minute I was walking the grounds, the next… nothing. Just flashes of running and…” Her voice faltered. “And the Rangers. I think they were with me, but it’s all a blur.”
Varric gave her a sidelong glance. “Did I teach you nothing? You should’ve spun a story”
Cassandra let out a low grunt of disapproval. “That is what you would have done,” she snapped, her tone dripping with chastisement.
“Of course I would have,” Varric shot back with a smirk. “It’s more believable and significantly less likely to result in premature execution.”
She managed a weak laugh, shaking her head. “Next time I wake up with strange magic and everyone blaming me for the end of the world, I’ll keep that in mind.”
They reached the forward camp, where another rift loomed, surrounded by demons. The fight that followed was brutal but swift, and with a flash of green light, the mark once again sealed the rift.
“That thing’s coming in handy,” Varric quipped, leaning on a nearby crate.
“You want it, Varric?” Ariana shot back with a teasing smile. “I’d be happy for you to take it off my hands. Literally.”
Varric barked a laugh, his grin widening. “Nah, I’m good. Looks like it stings a bit.”
“It does,” Ariana muttered, flexing her hand as the last echoes of pain subsided. For a brief moment, the banter lightened the weight of the chaos around them, and she was grateful for it.
Varric barked a laugh, but the humor felt hollow. As they settled into tense quiet, Ariana’s thoughts circled back to Cullen, the despair pressing down harder now. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel it fully—the fear that she would never find him, that she had already lost him.
~~~
The forward camp was a maelstrom of tension and barely contained panic. Soldiers moved hurriedly, their faces taut with fear and exhaustion as the unnatural green light of the Breach loomed above. The air vibrated with magic, its ominous hum a constant reminder of the chaos threatening to consume them.
Near the command table, an argument flared, sharp voices rising above the din. Ariana’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Leliana locked in a battle of words with a tall, stern man clad in richly embroidered robes—his posture practically dripping with self-importance.
“We must prepare the soldiers,” Leliana insisted, her tone resolute. “If we delay any longer, the Breach will overwhelm us.”
“And lead them to their deaths?” the man countered, his disdain cutting through the air. “Retreat is the only sensible course.”
Ariana sighed, her frustration mounting. How is this helpful? Cassandra’s stride was purposeful beside her, while Valentina and Lamberto flanked them, ever watchful. As they approached, the man’s eyes fell on Ariana, his expression souring further.
“The prisoner arrives,” he said, his voice laced with contempt. “You would stake our survival on her?”
“She is Lady Trevelyan,” Leliana retorted sharply. “And she may be our only chance of stopping the Breach.”
“I know exactly who she is,” the man snapped, turning his glare to Cassandra. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux for trial and execution.”
“Order me?” Cassandra’s voice was like the crack of a whip. Her glare was fierce enough to silence the camp. “You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!”
Valentina leaned toward Ariana, raising an amused brow. “Entertaining, isn’t it?”
Ariana let out a quiet, exasperated laugh. “Leave it to institutions to bicker while everything falls apart,” she muttered.
“Not how the Rangers do things,” Lamberto remarked dryly. “What now, Wolf? Step in?”
Ariana’s patience wore thin as the exchange dragged on. She strode forward, her voice cutting through the argument. “Let me get this straight,” she said, her tone sharp. “None of you are in charge, and instead of acting, you’re wasting time arguing?”
Roderick bristled. “You dare—”
“Oh, I dare,” Ariana interrupted, crossing her arms. “Demons are pouring out of the sky, and you’re debating politics? Either take action or get out of the way.”
Cassandra’s lips twitched faintly, but her expression remained hard. “You have a better plan, Lady Trevelyan?”
“I do,” Ariana replied firmly. “We move now. Every second we waste costs more lives.”
“That is madness,” Roderick sputtered. “You would throw lives away on a fool’s errand!”
Ariana turned to him, her eyes cold. “Then stay behind, Chancellor. Some of us still have work to do.”
Leliana’s smirk was barely concealed as she addressed Cassandra. “There are two paths to the Temple,” she said. “The direct route is faster but overrun with demons. The mountain path is safer, but slower.”
“The direct route,” Ariana said without hesitation.
Cassandra studied her, as though weighing her resolve. Finally, she nodded. “We move immediately.”
As they turned to leave, Roderick called out, his voice biting. “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”
Cassandra stiffened but didn’t respond, her focus already on the task ahead. Ariana didn’t spare Roderick a glance. There was no time for doubt or hesitation.
Valentina and Lamberto fell in step behind her, their silent presence a reassurance. As they approached the path leading to the Temple, soldiers watched her with a mix of fear, suspicion, and tentative hope. The weight of their stares settled heavily on her shoulders.
They’re not looking at me. They’re looking at the White Wolf, she thought, the burden of expectation pressing down.
“You act as if the Divine herself chose you for this,” Cassandra remarked, her tone laced with curiosity.
“She did,” Ariana replied, her voice quiet but unwavering. “And now we make sure she wasn’t wrong.”
Cassandra didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded, a flicker of something softer in her eyes. Together, they pressed on, the Temple and the Breach drawing closer with each step.
~~~
The Temple loomed ahead, shrouded in green light and the eerie hum of the Breach. The ruins stood like broken teeth against the sky, and the battlefield was a chaotic blur of soldiers and demons locked in a desperate struggle. Ariana’s pulse quickened as her gaze swept over the carnage. Her body ached with exhaustion, but her mind remained sharp, driven by a singular need to survive and protect those who could not.
Her eyes caught on a figure near the center of the fighting—a tall, armored man whose every movement spoke of precision and command. He cut through the demons with practiced efficiency, his blade flashing in the unnatural light. Ariana’s breath caught. Cullen.
The relief was so overwhelming it almost brought her to her knees. He’s alive. Her grip on her daggers tightened as she surged forward, the mark on her hand flaring with each step. The pain was nothing compared to the burning urgency in her chest.
Before she could call out, a hulking demon broke from the melee, its jagged claws poised to strike Cullen’s unprotected side. He was locked in combat, too focused to see the threat.
“No!” Ariana shouted, her voice raw.
She moved without thinking, her body a blur of motion. Her daggers flashed as she intercepted the demon, her blades finding purchase in its thick hide. The creature roared, swiping at her with deadly force, but she ducked under its claws, her movements fluid and precise.
Cullen turned, his eyes widening in recognition as she fought the demon back. For a moment, he froze.
“Ariana,” he breathed, the name barely audible over the chaos.
“Cullen, focus!” she barked, driving her blade into the demon’s throat. It dissolved into ash, and she turned to face him fully.
They fell into step as if no time had passed, moving together like two halves of the same blade. She parried while he struck, their rhythm seamless. The years and distance between them evaporated in the heat of battle, and for a brief, shining moment, it felt like nothing had changed.
When the last demon fell, the tension eased, leaving only the crackling energy of the rift and the distant cries of soldiers still fighting. Ariana’s left hand flared in response, the mark glowing with a searing light. She winced, clutching it instinctively. She stepped forward, raising her glowing palm toward the rift.
The mark flared brighter, the energy surging violently through her arm. Pain rippled through her entire body like fire racing along her veins. Her knees buckled slightly, but she forced herself to remain standing, teeth clenched as she channeled the magic.
When the rift collapsed with a final pulse, Ariana’s breaths came in ragged gasps. She staggered slightly, the weight of her exhaustion catching up to her. Cullen was at her side in an instant, his sword still in hand.
“Ariana,” he said again, this time with more force.
She dropped her daggers without thinking and stepped into his arms, the relief washing over her in a wave. “You’re alive,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “I thought—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t give voice to the fear that had gripped her since Riley told her he was missing.
Cullen hesitated for only a moment before pulling her close, his armor cold against her. “Of course, I’m alive,” he said quietly, though his voice wavered. “I didn’t—”
“They said you were missing,” Ariana interrupted, her voice thick with emotion. “I thought you’d been at the Conclave, and then—” She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hand brushing against a scar above his lip. Her fingers lingered as if needing to confirm he was real.
His eyes softened, his expression a mixture of relief and pain. “I’m here,” he said simply.
The sound of Cassandra’s voice shattered the moment. “Commander,” she called, her tone urgent.
They broke apart, both suddenly aware of the battlefield around them. Cassandra and Solas approached, their expressions grim.
“We must move,” Solas said, his gaze flicking to Ariana’s hand. “The mark grows unstable with each passing moment. We cannot afford to delay.”
Cullen’s hand shot out, gripping her arm gently but firmly. “Are you sure you can do this?” His gaze flicked to her hand, then to her face. The concern in his eyes was unmistakable, but Ariana caught the brief flicker of his gaze toward her ring finger, now bare. The moment passed in a heartbeat, but the look lingered in her mind. He didn’t say anything, but she knew he had noticed.
“I’ll manage,” she said, her voice steady despite the strain. “I don’t have a choice.”
Cullen’s jaw tightened as his eyes lingered on Ariana. “Be careful,” he said, the words heavy with unspoken meaning.
She managed a faint smile, her exhaustion clear. “Always.”
As they turned toward the Temple, Ariana cast one last glance over her shoulder. Cullen’s gaze was still on her, and for a moment, the chaos around them faded into the background.
Survive this, she thought, the words meant for both of them.
~~~
As they entered what remained of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the air felt thick with foreboding. The acrid scent of charred stone and ash clung to every surface, mingling with the faint hum of magic that made the hair on Ariana’s arms stand on end. Leliana and a group of soldiers caught up with them, their presence a mix of relief and urgency. Determined to reach the rift and uncover what had happened, they pressed on through the shattered remains of the once-holy site.
As they neared the center of the Temple, a voice reverberated through the air, low and menacing: “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”
Ariana froze mid-step, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “Oh no… no, no. I’m not doing another haunted house,” she muttered, shooting a sharp glance at Varric.
Varric smirked faintly, his crossbow already raised. “You and me both, pup. Let’s not make this a habit.”
“What are we hearing?” Cassandra demanded, her voice edged with unease. For all her stoicism, even she couldn’t mask her discomfort.
“At a guess? The person responsible for the Breach,” Solas answered, his tone as calm and measured as if they were discussing the weather. It grated on Ariana’s nerves.
The voice echoed again as they moved deeper into the ruins, the sinister cadence like nails against stone: “Keep the sacrifice still.”
Then came a cry that froze Ariana in place. “Someone help me!” It was unmistakable—Divine Justinia’s voice.
Cassandra’s face went pale, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That is… the Divine. That is her voice!”
Ariana’s jaw tightened, her silence speaking louder than words. She hadn’t known Justinia well—not personally—but the Divine had entrusted her, believed in her, and Ariana had failed her. Failed everyone.
As they descended to the next level, the walls began to shimmer with jagged veins of red lyrium. Ariana’s breath hitched at the sight of it, her pulse quickening.
“Maker…” Varric began, his voice unusually strained, his gaze locked on the glowing veins.
“Red lyrium,” Ariana finished, her voice grim and tinged with exhaustion. She forced a wry smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I really didn’t want to do another haunted house.”
“This place reeks of it,” Varric muttered, his usual bravado replaced with unease.
The oppressive energy seemed to thicken as they approached the Temple’s heart. Suddenly, the mark on Ariana’s hand flared painfully, forcing her to a halt. A wave of nausea rolled over her as a vision formed in the air above the rift.
The scene unfolded like a memory etched in time. Divine Justinia was restrained by shimmering magical bindings, her expression calm but determined even as a dark, hooded figure loomed over her.
“What’s going on here?” Ariana’s voice cut through the vision. Her own form stepped into view, her daggers drawn.
The Divine turned her head sharply, her voice urgent. “Run while you can! Warn them!”
The hooded figure’s voice dripped with malice. “We have an intruder. Kill her. Now.”
The vision dissipated as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving the group in stunned silence.
Cassandra’s voice broke the stillness, tight with a mix of accusation and desperation. “Most Holy called out to you. What happened here?”
Ariana stared at the empty space where the vision had been, her chest tightening. She could still feel the Divine’s urgency, her plea for help echoing in her mind. But the answers eluded her. She shook her head, her voice trembling. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
Solas stepped closer to the rift, inspecting it carefully. “The rift is closed, but not sealed. To seal it properly, we must reopen it.”
Ariana’s head snapped toward him, incredulous. “Reopen it? That has to be the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
“We’ve had a lot of those lately,” Varric quipped, his dry humor cutting through the tension just enough to make her lips twitch.
“It will draw attention from the other side,” Solas warned. “Be ready.”
Cassandra issued sharp orders to the soldiers. “Defensive positions! Prepare yourselves!”
Ariana’s gaze flicked between the rift and the faces around her—Cassandra, Varric, and the soldiers who still held the line despite their fear. She clenched her jaw, the weight of it all settling in her chest like a stone. How many more lives will this cost? she thought bitterly, flexing her aching hand. She hadn’t chosen this, but the bodies littering the Temple’s ruins were a cruel reminder that choice no longer mattered. If I don’t do this, no one else will.
Ariana hesitated, glancing at Varric. His calm nod, his steady presence, gave her just enough courage to step forward. The White Wolf doesn’t falter. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand toward the rift and let the mark’s magic surge once more.
The rift exploded open with a blinding flash of light, the energy roaring like a storm unleashed. A massive Pride Demon emerged, its roar shaking the shattered walls of the Temple.
The battle was immediate and relentless. Ariana fought with everything she had, dodging the demon’s crushing blows and striking whenever an opening presented itself. Her daggers gleamed in the eerie light, but they felt inadequate against such a foe.
“You’ve faced worse, pup!” Varric called, loosing bolt after bolt into the demon’s back. “Don’t let this one make you look bad!”
“Worry less about me, Varric, and aim better!” Ariana shot back, the banter keeping her grounded amidst the chaos.
The Pride Demon roared again, swiping its massive arm and sending a group of soldiers sprawling. Ariana gritted her teeth, channeling the mark’s energy directly into the rift. A shockwave rippled through the chamber, staggering the demon.
“Nice move!” Varric shouted, his crossbow releasing another bolt.
The Pride Demon roared, its massive fists slamming into the ground with enough force to send cracks spidering out beneath their feet. Ariana darted to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow that would have crushed her outright. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her movements slowing as exhaustion clawed at her limbs. “Could this thing get any bigger?” she muttered, dodging another swing.
“Bigger? Probably,” Varric called out, loosing another bolt. “But I’m thinking uglier is a stretch.”
Ariana’s lips twitched, but the fleeting humor did little to steady her. She caught a brief opening, driving her daggers into the demon’s leg. It roared in fury, staggering back. “It’s not enough,” she growled, frustration lacing her voice.
“It’s weakening!” Cassandra shouted, her shield raised as she blocked a blow. “Keep pushing!”
With renewed focus, Ariana channeled her remaining strength into the mark, directing its power toward the rift. The demon faltered, its massive form shimmering as the energy pulled at it, unraveling its connection to the mortal plane.
“Now! Seal the rift!” Cassandra commanded.
Ariana stepped forward, her legs trembling as she raised her hand. The mark burned hotter than ever, the energy within it wild and untamed. She clenched her teeth against the pain, forcing the magic into the rift.
The rift resisted, pulling against her, threatening to tear her apart. Her vision blurred, but she pushed harder, pouring every ounce of strength into the mark. The edges of the rift began to fold in on themselves, shrinking with each agonizing second. Finally, with a deafening pulse of light, the rift closed completely.
The chamber went silent. Ariana swayed on her feet, her strength spent, before collapsing to the ground. The world dimmed as the pain in her hand ebbed, and then darkness claimed her once more.