Claws ripped apart her sleeve and raked across the skin. Blood welled up through the abrasion but she was too far gone to notice the pain. The hurlock jabbered something at Lana, its rotted teeth spraying spittle against her cheek. She tipped her hand up and willed an icicle into being off her palm to drive through the creature's stomach. It was enough to kill the darkspawn but also obliterated the vestiges of her mana. She grabbed her upper arm to try and slow the bleeding while sliding back. Three darkspawn remained and there was nothing left in her to finish the job.
So this was how it ended. Lost in the twists of the deep roads, blood pooling from her wounds, and three darkspawn scrabbling over their dead brethren to finish off the hero of Ferelden. Well, she wasn't about to make it easy for them, even if that had been the entire point.
A genlock tipped back on its back legs and roared. Lana shouted back, "Oh, sod off!" Swinging her staff blade forward, it slicked across the gargantuan's back leaving a line of red behind but doing nothing to slow the creature. "What happened to these damn things?! You shouldn't be so big!" she screamed again, still trying to slide away from the creature while jabbing her staff like a kitchen knife. There were no more spells in her arsenal, no one was coming, no one even knew she was here. At least no one would know how ignominiously she died. It was a strangely comforting thought as her back flattened against the wall. No escape for the hero of Ferelden. Her time finally came. The genlock hissed, stamping its feet across the ground like a bull about to charge.
"Get on with it, already!" she shouted at it. Lopping into a run, the genlock sped towards her on all fours. It reared back, ready to strike her across the chest when fire burst upon its back. The genlock screamed, its skin crackling in flames. Lana twisted her hand around trying to figure out where the spell came from, her mana was still dead. How could she have cast it?
Then a woman in red and black armor burst out through the caverns behind the darkspawn. She bore a blade nearly as long as herself and hacked through the last two hurlocks with an infectious madness. Ichor bubbled up from the greatsword's wounds and the darkspawn turned their attack on the unexplainable woman. Lana had bigger problems than this newest pawn on the board. The flames died across the genlock's skin and it twisted its teeth back to her. Slipping down, her fingers gripped onto the first leather hilt she found hidden in her boot. Underhanded, Lana slit a dagger across the creature's throat. Black blood gushed from the powerful beat of its heart, drenching across her robes. It stumbled from the final death throes and landed upon Lana, dragging both to the ground.
Pinned under the genlock, she could just see the woman's massive greatsword chopping through the heads of the hurlocks, sending them scattering to the ground. The woman smiled at her destruction, then turned around to ask, "Please tell me this is the right one."
"I am positive she's here," a male voice spoke behind her.
"That's what you said last time, you know, before we walked in on an ogre."
"85% positive, then."
Lana wiggled below the genlock's corpse and limped to her feet. Using her staff as leverage, she rose to eye up her unexpected saviors. The woman was turned away from her, trying to mop up the darkspawn blood spattered across every inch of her. But the blonde man in a feathered coat blacker than the deep roads instantly struck Lana, "You!"
Anders clucked his tongue, "Told you it was her."
The woman spun away from the abomination and smiled. Blood was swiped across her nose but it was too red to be darkspawn. She cracked an even greater grin than before, as if that were possible, "I guess I owe you a drink."
"Anders," Lana sneered. She was in no state to fight him, her own body threatening to shut down after two weeks in the deep roads, but she couldn't stop the rage boiling behind her eyes. The traitor here, right in front of her, after all this time. After all he did.
The woman stepped in between them and stuck out her hand, "Solona, right? Solona Amell."
Anders tapped the woman on the shoulder and whispered, "She hates being called that."
Lana shoved away the woman's proffered hand and leapt into Anders' way, "Tell me why I don't kill you right now for what you did?"
"Because I doubt you could hurt a kitten in your state," Anders cut back, but his eyes darted up to the woman and he mouthed 'This'll end well.'
"Do not act as if you know my limits, Anders," Lana cursed, trying to summon all she could. "You betrayed your promise, the order, my trust and the faith I placed in you. In both of you."
Anders blinked and his cocky smile slipped away at her mentioning Justice, as if she hadn't figured it out the moment both vanished from the Keep. Reports of a mage with glowing blue eyes in Kirkwall sealed the deal as far as she was concerned. The woman grabbed onto Lana's shoulder, her grip friendly but with a flexing dig to warn the mage that she could shatter her collarbone if she had a mind.
"All right, let's not go into who betrayed who."
"There's nothing to go into. The answer is obvious," Lana spat back, not taking her eyes off the abomination. Anders slunk back from her venom, his eyes darting up the wall to avoid her. Shame was a surprise; she never thought the man capable of such a thing.
"You are her, right? Hero of Ferelden, big stopper of the Blight and slaughtered of darkspawn and all that?" the woman continued.
Lana slumped forward in her grasp, "I am, and you are..."
Anders interrupted, "This is the Champion of Kirkwall." Of course, who else would dare to travel with him after what he did?
"Hawke, at your service," she said finally releasing her grip and then patting Lana on the back. The force was enough to crumple a deepstalker's skull, but Lana gritted through it. "It's great to meet you, in the flesh. Love your work, you know. Killing darkspawn, stopping blights. It's great all around. Did you know we're family?"
"Oh?" Lana shook her head, trying to clear the never ending buzzing from her thoughts. In doing so, she glanced over at the abomination and saw him attempting to do the same. Once a grey warden, always a grey warden -- no matter how far you ran.
Hawke was the only one unaffected as she beamed, "Yup, my mother's side is Amell. You're like a second cousin twice removed or something like that. They showed me charts once but I didn't get it. I was never very good at lineage shit."
"Delightful," Lana said. She prodded at the wound below her shredded sleeve, then hissed as pain and more blood poured from it.
"I can heal that," Anders said, but Lana glared at him.
"Do not come near me."
His eyes crumpled, but he kept his hands folded across his chest. She didn't want a thing from the traitor, nor anyone else for that matter. No one was supposed to come save her. Wrapping a strip of fabric around her arm, Lana knotted it with her teeth then asked Hawke, "How did you find me?"
The Champion tipped her head at the sulking mage, "Some magic warden tingle, and not the fun kind neither. Oh, and we followed the trail of darkspawn corpses. Lots of those. Lucky thing we stopped by when we did too, eh? Seemed you were in a rather tight spot."
"Yes, lucky," Lana glared at the dead genlock that nearly finished her. "I assume you have some reason why you trekked into the deep roads and risked blight to find me."
Hawke's smile dripped off her cheeks and she shared a look with Anders. The mage dug into his satchel while Hawke continued to speak, "I did. I need a warden's help."
"You have one already, unless he's forgotten how to help," Lana said.
Anders grumbled but kept digging in the pack for something. Hawke shook her head, "A warden with access to all those wardeny things."
"Wardeny things?" Lana repeated. Maker, keeping up with this woman was giving her a splitting headache.
Anders finally extracted whatever they wanted out of the pack and handed it to Hawke. "I hoped you could solve this," she twisted around and thrust a small red vial towards Lana.
"That almost looks like lyrium," Lana said. She reached her fingers towards it when a thousand voices echoed from inside of the t
hin glass, each chanting the familiar words of the archdemon. Sweet Maker! "What is that?!"
"That'd be why I went to the trouble to find you, for you to solve the it and what its being is." Hawke passed the bottle to Lana. She held it between thumb and forefinger extended as far from her body as possible. Still the voices called from inside it, begging to draw her inward, to join them in a blissful serenity. For a brief moment that old curiosity gripped Lana and she wanted to dissect every inch of this red lyrium, trace its origins and discover what created it. How could lyrium have the calling burning through it? But it faded as soon as it caught, the dampener on her brain yanking her curiosity away. She came to the deep roads for one reason, and by the Maker's grace she was going to accomplish it.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help," Lana passed the bottle back to Hawke who frowned as infectiously as she smiled. Only Anders breathed a sigh of relief at her refusal, more than likely afraid his old Commander would make good on her promise of ending him. It was only bluster, Lana was far too exhausted to bother enacting justice on him. And, deep in her heart, she doubted she could raise a blade to him. He was one of hers once, for good or ill.
Hawke cradled the vial and sighed, "That's not what I was expecting to hear, but I guess you have big warden things to do. Why you'd come down here alone and all. Saving the world and shit. Been there, done that, then kinda blew it up again."
Lana bobbed her head at the babble, then she glanced back at the vial. It was small, but there was an artistry to the design of such a simple thing. Someone took the time to make it instantly noticeable. The bottle's familiarity finally struck her and she had to ask, "Where did that come from?"
"Oh that?" Hawke shrugged, her frown already slipping back to her resting smile, "Kirkwall. Some of the templars there were taking it instead of the regular blue flavor. Might still be for all I know."
Kirkwall? Templars! Lana snatched up the bottle and lifted it to the pale light of the dwarven runes. Yes, it was the same as the ones the Free Marcher templars used, even bore the seal of the chanty upon the top. Maker's breath, what did he get himself into? She'd wanted to go to Kirkwall after news of the chantry explosion reached the shores of Amaranthine along with boats overloaded with refugees but it was deemed unwise. A powerful mage walking the streets of Kirkwall days after one destroyed the chantry; she'd only cause more panic than solve. Still, it took her seneschal and even Ali...the King of Ferelden to talk her down from it.
Hawke watched her inspecting the bottle anew and cocked an eyebrow, "Does this mean you'll help?"
What were the templars doing with this? What was it doing to them? Andraste's tears, if Cullen had somehow blighted himself she might be the only hope he had left. Gripping the vial tight, Lana turned to Hawke, "Tell me everything you know about this red lyrium."
TO BE CONTINUED in MY TEMPLAR
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