Spring was fading away and summer was coming on strong. The morning had been rather cool, but now with the sun high in the sky the heat of the day was slowly trickling into the heavily wooded forest. For now, the shade of the canopy above them kept them cool, but by midday they would begin to feel the humidity of the wood. The two travelers, one elf, one human, stood before an ancient ruin that was long forgotten by most.
Nature had reclaimed much of the lost ruin, and to untrained eyes it might simply look like boulders. But Sylvia could see the small details that still remained on the outside that indicated it had been built by hands, not nature. Her face was flush and her breathing was slow and shallow. Her Elven face remained stoic for now, but her eyes told another story. She was terrified and in pain. Whatever lay in the ruins beyond, the elf was afraid of it.
They stood there in silence for long moments. Then the human beside her, clad in mage’s robes, turned to her, “Are you alright Sylvia? Do you sense something?” he asked. Sylvia, her reverie broken, turned to the man and took a deep breath then shook her head, “No, I am not alright.” she looked back to the ruins, “This is where it all started for me. I lost my clan member…I lost, my friend”. She looked down, tears stinging her eyes, “And I was touched by dark magic. Duncan saved me and when I was recovered took me to the grey wardens.” She looked back at the man, strong emotion in her eyes. The man finally understood. “I can go in by myself, you don’t have to come” he offered, but Sylvia shook her head, “I feel…I feel I must” she said. She changed her stance slightly and took a deep breath. Slowly, she walked to the building of her past, the building of her nightmares.
Inside, the ancient building was far less aged. The wall carvings were still visible and some of the statues of the elves remained intact. On either side of the ruin, huge tree roots had broken the wall and sunlight peeked in. It was much cooler then outside and Slyvia shivered for a moment at the sudden change of temperature.
The mage looked around him in awe. “My god Sylvia, these look like ruins from before the Trevinter Imperium”. He walked up to one of the whole statues, touching it softly. “If this is living stone it explains why the building lasted so long. Imagine who these statues must represent!” The human was fascinated by the lost history and forgot for the moment about Sylvia.
Sylvia heard him but she was looking down the hall. Tamlen was there, in her mind. She could see him now, his bow lowered, his sharp eyes looking down the hall at the ancient place. He turned back to look at his younger clan mate, “Sylvia, we must look further. There might be something of our past here”. A thousand times she wished she had done things different that day and the guilt weighed heavily on her.
After several long moments with only the quiet ambiance of a cave and the occasional drip of water, she looked back up at the mage. “Come, this way” she said to him and began to walk down the very hallway she had nearly four years ago. The mage reluctantly left the statue and followed behind her.
As they rounded the corner they saw the skeletons of the long dead darkspawn. Anything with flesh had been picked clean by the creatures of the forest and the cloth was beginning to rot. “Darkspawn?” the mage asked in excitement. Sylvia nodded, “When we came here, we were attacked by several groups of darkspawn. There are none here. I can sense nothing” she said as she looked over her shoulder at the mage. He nodded, but stayed closer to the elf as they continued on. Sylvia felt a hand over her heart slowly squeezing tighter and tighter as she retraced her path to the room with the mirror. She could feel the Dread Wolf breathing hot on her neck as she came closer to the room.
When they finally reached the door Sylvia stopped for a moment, catching her breath. For four years she had been hiding and running from her past and her pain. She now had to face it, to turn back now would do great damage to her. With a nod to the mage she took a deep breath and walked through the door, stopping a few feet from the pedestal.
The room was as she remembered it. Two statues stood guard over the silver colored metal frame. The mirror and the statues were on a pedestal and the ceiling above was high and vaulted. Sylvia felt a cold darkness over her heart and she wished Alistair or Wynne were here with her. Her nightmares flashed in her mind as she stared at the empty space where the mirror had been. She looked at the mage, “I will get the shards, I’ve already been affected by dark magic once and I have the taint within, if the magic still remains it should not affect me like it did before” she said.
She walked up the pedestal slowly, pulling a large cloth out of her small travel sack, and kneeled down before the frame, looking at her reflection in the glass. “Tamlen…” she whispered softly, then reached for the largest shard of the mirror. As her hand touched it, she felt an odd sensation. It wasn’t the sensation she felt when darkspawn were near, and it took a moment of concentration to pinpoint the odd feeling she got. She dropped the shard and the cloth and quickly stepped back as the smell of ozone penetrated the air and static electricity caused the hair on their arms and neck to stand up.
“What is that?” the mage asked, preparing a spell. Sylvia drew an arrow and prepared her bow, “It is a portal” she said. The mage looked at her, “But the mirror is shattered” he said. Sylvia did not look at the mage, “yes” she said simply. With the realization they had no idea what was about to happened, he prepared his spells. Sylvia waited for the inevitable, then looked at the mage who was just standing there. “Mage, close the portal!” she yelled to him. The mage looked at her for a second, then realization crossed his face, “Yes, right” he said and began to prepare the spell. It would take time, too much time.
There had been a light. He remembered that with certainty. Tamlen could not remember seeing a light so bright before in his life. Not even when he once stepped from the aravel or stuck his head out one morning with his face turned directly to the rising sun.
There wasn’t only light - there had been a sound so deep but so keen that he could feel the sound on the hairs of his neck, and the bones of his body and deep in his chest. But it also shrieked against his ears so that he could feel it vibrating against his teeth.
Tamlen couldn’t remember for how long he’d been here in this place. It seemed like a place one visited in nightmares - for there was nothing comforting about the place he found himself after the light.
He’d convinced himself he died, and this was some sort of afterlife. A great crisis followed, where he doubted and believed and somehow managed to do both at the same time. He wished he listened to the Keeper, and the elders. Was this punishment from Falon’Din for making some wrong choice he didn’t know about? Was he supposed to be here?
After a while, Tamlen simply grew tired of thinking and explored. His boldness was more tempered than it had been when he got into this predicament, but he knew he could not simply stay in one place. Cautiously at first, he wandered.
When he became weak with hunger, he knew he was not dead. Crisis followed again, but he could not place where he was or what happened. A sense of danger heightened, realizing that he had not in fact died like he thought, but was still susceptible to it whenever it felt the desire to strike.
Eventually, Tamlen (barely) managed to retrace his steps to where he first recalled being. With a growing weight of fear and anxiety in his belly, heavy like a stone dropped into water, he searched for clues for a way out. Hope seemed lost - but then he felt that sound again, the one that made his body quiver and the hair on his body stand on end.
Perhaps it was because of where he was standing, but the bright light returned and completely enveloped him. He gave a cry of surprise, fear, and relief - had he done the right thing? Had he turned the right stone over like it was a key to returning? Little did he know, there was nothing he had done that triggered the portal to reopen, independent of a whole eluvian on the other side.
Though the same sensation of being pulled and tossed about while entering the light and another place, Tamlen threw himself forward into it in the sort of relief that he would live and would not be doomed to die alone in a place so unfamiliar. When the light subsided, he could not see but he felt cold, hard stone on his hands and arms and knees. Blinking rapidly, Tamlen realized he was either blind, or in a very dark place and unable to adjust to the darkness since the light blinded him. Lifting his head and breathing hard, he sat back in an attempt see where he was. But he couldn’t, and he simply sat in dumbstruck silence until his vision could return
vaporwave
prguitarman
areudirty
amandla
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
