Chapter Text
Waking up with a pounding headache was not a new experience. Hurting clear to her fingernails, however, was. As were the manacles. Today was just full of surprises. Mercer opened her eyes, not sure she wanted to find out what other surprises were waiting on this side of consciousness.
The sickly green light filling the room did nothing to reassure her. Blinking slowly, she tried to get her eyes to focus and immediately regretted it when she discovered the source of the light. Her left hand was glowing.
A door opened and slammed closed nearby, but she barely registered it through the utter terror that had taken over her brain. She screamed as the light in her hand grew brighter, sending pain radiating up her arm with each pulse. As quickly as it had started, it stopped, the pain fading away with the dimming light. Her scream dropped to a low moan as she slumped forward, cradling her arm. Through her ragged breathing she heard footsteps, sharp and measured. They stopped abruptly in front of her and she opened her eyes blearily.
Boots. They made a disgusted noise, which Mercer hardly thought polite, given her situation. Her brain had given up terror in favor of hysterical babbling and she was momentarily convinced that the boots would have answers for her. She stared at them a moment longer, eventually deciding that the owner of the boots would hardly be amused by her attempts to converse with their footwear.
Her suspicions were confirmed as she slowly sat up and met the scowling eyes of the dark-haired woman in front of her. Mercer’s eyes flicked to the symbol on the woman’s breastplate. Chantry. Fuck. What the void had she gotten into?
Mercer swallowed and took a breath, but the other woman spoke first, glaring down at her. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” As she spoke a second person stepped forward, regarding Mercer with calculating eyes. The dark-haired woman was an obvious threat, but the second woman- a redhead- looked at Mercer in a way that made her blood run cold.
The dark-haired woman spoke again, despair and anger making her voice tight. “The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” Mercer met the dark-haired woman’s eyes, shock and confusion written on her face.
“You think that I did it.” she said flatly. The woman grabbed Mercer’s wrist “Explain this!” she demanded, shaking the wrist before flinging it away from her.
“I...can’t.” Mercer knew the answer was unacceptable, but it was all she had.
Both women began circling her. “What do you mean you can’t?” Mercer grimaced, knowing that her next answer would be as unacceptable as the first. Whatever had happened was bad, and she was apparently the only suspect so far. “I don’t know what that is, or how it got there.”
The dark-haired woman snapped, face full of rage as she grabbed Mercer by the shoulders and shook her “You’re lying!” The redhead intervened, calmly drawing the other woman away. “We need her, Cassandra” she murmured quietly, turning to regard Mercer who was staring bleakly, shoulders slumped.
“I can’t believe it. All those people…” all her people “dead.” Her voice was a cracked whisper, the full weight of what had happened hitting her. Mya, Keith, Daniel, Anna, Lucan. Maker, no.
The redhead studied her for a moment. “Do you remember what happened, how all this began?”
Mercer’s memories were jumbled, woolly, and nonsensical but she searched them desperately for anything. “I remember...running. Things were chasing me. And then..a woman.”
“A woman?” The redhead crossed her arms, eyebrows drawing together. Mercer ignored her, trying to grasp the memories before they became fuzzy and disappeared. “She reached out to me and then….” she trailed off then bit back a curse. The memories were gone.
The dark-haired woman -Cassandra- gestured toward the door. “Go to the forward camp Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Leliana glanced at Mercer once more, gave Cassandra a short nod, and then left.
Cassandra turned back to Mercer, anger gone, and began unlocking the manacles. “What did happen?” Mercer asked softly, rising to her feet with help from the other woman.
Cassandra sighed, carefully binding Mercer’s wrists together with rope. “It...will be easier to show you.” She led Mercer from the room and into the light.
Mercer flinched from the light, her eyes adjusting to the brightness. She flinched again when she could see clearly, staring in horrified fascination at the swirling mass of energy that dominated the horizon. It pulsed with the same sickly green light that came from her hand.
“We call it the Breach. A massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It is not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”
Mercer tore her gaze away from the massive hole. “An explosion can do that?” Cassandra’s face was impassive. “This one did. Unless we act the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”
Her reply cut off by a peal of thunder rolling across the sky, Mercer stared, transfixed, at the Breach for a split second before it began pulsing erratically, dropping her to her knees with a cry of pain as the mark on her hand followed suit.
Cassandra knelt in front of her, gesturing to the Breach. “Each time the Breach expands your mark spreads and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”
Mercer’s mind raced. She was still a suspect and helping was no guarantee of a pardon, or even a trial. If it were as bad as Cassandra said, she wouldn’t survive long enough to find out otherwise unless she helped. She exhaled sharply, giving Cassandra a quick nod. “I understand. I’ll do what I can. Whatever it takes.” Cassandra held her gaze a moment, then returned the nod, helping Mercer to her feet.
They passed through a crowd of people. Mercer was certain that Cassandra’s glare was all that stood between her and a lynch mob. Their rage, hate, and despair were all directed at Mercer and held at bay on the authority of the woman leading her.
Cassandra led her to a large gate in front of a bridge and once through came to a stop. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.” She cut the bindings from Mercer’s wrists. “Come, it is not far.”
Following Cassandra across the bridge, Mercer mulled over her words as the woman explained the necessity of testing the mark on something smaller than the Breach itself. She periodically glanced at the Breach as Cassandra spoke. The damned thing made her head hurt.
Another pulse from the Breach caused Mercer to stumble, falling to her knees in pain. This shit is getting old. Cassandra helped her to her feet. “The pulses are coming faster now. They spawn more rifts which means more demons we must face.”
“How in the Maker’s name did I survive that?”
Cassandra looked at her strangely before replying “They say you..stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was behind you. No one knows who she was.” Another bridge was in sight. “Everything in the valley, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes, was destroyed. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”
They had nearly crossed the second bridge when a piercing whine rent the air, accompanied by a green, glowing projectile hurtling toward them. It crashed into a group of soldiers just inside the final gate, collapsing the bridge and sending Mercer and Cassandra tumbling to the frozen river below.
Cassandra was on her feet in an instant, drawing her sword as she bolted toward a hissing green puddle on the ice several yards away. Still dazed, Mercer found her feet, scrambling backward as a second puddle began hissing just in front of her.
Casting around desperately, Mercer spotted a bow and just beyond that a quiver and arrows spilling from a broken crate. She murmured a fervent thank you to Andraste as she quickly gathered them, slinging the quiver over her shoulder and nocking an arrow just as the puddle formed into a shade.
Mercer loosed an arrow into the thing’s face, noting with a detached sense of surprise that Cassandra was also facing a shade. Several more arrows followed in quick succession, landing with satisfying thunks. The shade dissipated, melting away just as Cassandra finished her foe.
Seeing no more demons, Mercer sighed in relief. Relief was short lived, however, when Cassandra advanced on her, sword still drawn, and demanded that she drop the bow. Anger flashed through Mercer- did the woman mean to have her completely helpless? It wasn’t as if she could run away. Still, it would help nothing to antagonize the woman. Mercer sighed and carefully lowered the bow to the ground. “All right. Have it your way.”
Her ready agreement gave Cassandra pause. She sighed, sheathing her sword. “Wait. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect for you to be defenseless. I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.” Mercer nodded her thanks, retrieving the bow.
As Cassandra turned away Mercer glanced quickly over the mess of broken crates, grabbing a few more arrows and a cowl. I may be a prisoner, I may be ass deep in whatever the void is going on. Also- demons. But at least my ears will be warm. She caught up with Cassandra, falling quickly into step with her.
========================================================================
Mercer’s toasty-eared optimism did not last, fading a little more with each successive batch of demons they fought. There seemed to be no end to them. She grumbled to herself as she dispatched a wraith and slung her bow back over her shoulder. Pausing, she caught the faint sound of fighting ahead of them.
Cassandra heard it as well, gesturing urgently to Mercer as she increased her pace. “There’s more fighting closer to the rift. Hurry, we must help them.” Mercer bit back a question as she followed. She’d find out who it was soon enough.
The sounds of battle grew louder, steel crashing amidst the shriek of demons and the zip of magic being loosed. Cassandra barrelled past Mercer, sword and shield at the ready, and dove headlong into the battle as soon as it was in sight. Mercer hung back slightly, out of melee range and began firing arrows, feeling a grim joy as each found its mark.
The fighting ended quickly and Mercer jogged toward Cassandra, eyeing the crackling bundle of energy suspended over their heads. As she got closer she found her arm grabbed and thrust toward the light. Someone was shouting, but she couldn’t hear it over the sudden high pitched noise that filled the air. Pain burned through her arm as light shot from her hand, stretching toward the rift, twining into and around the edges in tendrils of energy.
With a sudden crash and a jerk of her arm, the rift was gone. Mercer yanked her arm back from the person holding it. “What did you do?!” Her voice sounded angry and panicky, even to her, but the elf that answered seemed unconcerned by her outburst. “I did nothing. The credit is yours.”
Mercer regarded her hand, holding it up to indicate the mark. “You mean this.” The elf nodded.
“Whatever made the Breach also placed the mark upon your hand. I theorized that the mark could close the rifts. It seems I was correct.” He seemed quietly pleased with himself.
The elf gestured to Cassandra, wishing to speak to her. As they conversed Mercer found herself introduced to a dwarf with an impressive crossbow and an equally impressive amount of chest hair.
She cocked an eyebrow- “The Varric Tethras? Author?”
The dwarf grinned, pleased at having been recognized. Mercer shook her head, a slightly surprised “huh” escaping her lips. Today was weird.
Varric turned to Cassandra, who made no attempt to hide her dislike of the dwarf. As the two argued, the elf introduced himself. Solas was a mage, and -according to Varric, who stopped arguing with Cassandra long enough to impart the information- was the only reason the mark had not outright killed her while she’d been unconscious. Solas awkwardly accepted Mercer’s thanks, obviously unused to receiving gratitude.
Cassandra and Varric’s argument ended with a disgusted noise on her part, and a roguish wink on his. Mercer found herself warming slightly toward the dwarf. If nothing else he had a sense of humor and didn’t seem to have had anything to do with her imprisonment, both things she was rather in favor of. She smiled slightly at him as they continued forward.
========================================================================
The trek to the forward camp was a blur. It felt as though they’d been fighting demons for an eternity when they finally made it to the gate that led to the camp. Before they could pass through they had to deal with the rift that was spitting out yet more demons directly in their path.
Mercer growled, muttering under her breath about “more sodding demons” as she readied her bow. Varric snickered and followed suit.
The fight was quick and vicious, ending with Solas directing her to close the rift as she’d done before. Exhausted, they trudged through the gate, toward where they could hear Leliana arguing with someone. As the “someone” came into view Mercer groaned aloud.
“Oh, fuck this. I’m finding more demons.”
Cassandra looked at her, disapproval turning into sympathy. Leliana was in the midst of an argument with a rather puffed up, self-important looking cleric.
Chancellor Roderick, as he was introduced, made immediate demands for Mercer’s imprisonment and execution. She crossed her arms and stared him down, already not caring much for the man.
Thankfully Cassandra didn’t seem to care much for him either, flatly refusing his demands and ignoring much of what he said. They bickered back and forth, Cassandra determined to proceed to the Temple and the Chancellor finding every excuse as to why they shouldn’t.
The arguing began to wear at Mercer. Every moment spent bickering was time wasted and men lost. When Cassandra turned to ask her opinion, Mercer couldn’t help the irritation in her voice. Just a few hours ago she’d been in chains and now they suddenly wanted her input. No, her mark. They needed to keep her alive to use the mark.
Well, she appreciated having some say in her likely demise. It cheered her slightly.
She deliberated quickly. “We take the mountain pass. Use the soldiers as a distraction, but not for all-out attack. We should be able to minimize casualties. With luck we can find the scouts on the way.”
Cassandra nodded in agreement, directing Leliana and ignoring the Chancellor’s snide remarks about ‘consequences’. Mercer rolled her eyes as they passed the man. He thought himself important, but was obviously lost in military matters. Rather than helping he was spreading fear and dissent. She was not sorry to leave him behind, but had the sinking feeling that, should she survive this, she would be seeing him again. The thought was quite irritating.
========================================================================
Mercer had been trying to shut out everything save the task at hand, but seeing the ruins of the Temple and the charred remains of what had once been people, their faces now stretched into eternal screams of terror, felt like a punch in the gut. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, her hands shaking as she fought back the panic that threatened to overcome her. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to take a breath. Not now. If she survived, she’d find time later to fall apart. She caught Solas’ look of concern and gave a grim smile in return, then forced her attention back to the path, focusing on the rubble beneath her feet.
When they reached the Temple Mercer stared a moment in awe- the rift was massive. According to Solas it was closed, but not sealed. Mercer would have to use the mark to open it, then close it properly. Leliana’s people took up positions around the ruins, ready for the demons that would likely make an appearance once the rift was reopened.
As they descended into the ruin they encountered a strange form of lyrium. It was red and it...sang. Mercer had never seen it before, but it made her uneasy. Varric had encountered it before and was clearly distressed about its presence. No one knew how it could have gotten there.
Equally disturbing were the voices that came from nowhere, echoing throughout the ruins. Solas suggested that the deeper voice belonged to whomever had created the Breach, the Veil being thin enough here to allow memories to bleed through. Cassandra identified the other voice as belonging to Divine Justinia, crying out for help. A third voice- Mercer’s- answered.
Cassandra whirled on her, demanding answers that Mercer couldn’t give. She still did not remember.
As they came to the bottom of the ruins images began appearing in the rift. Divine Justinia, held as a sacrifice, Mercer interrupting whatever ritual was being performed, a shadowed figure calling for Mercer’s death. Mercer could make sense of none of them, the memories stubbornly locked away somewhere in her brain.
For now, they had to deal with the Breach.
Despite Solas’ warnings, none of them were prepared for the massive pride demon that appeared when Mercer reopened the rift. Maker’s balls. Today kept finding new and inventive ways to make her life miserable.
If she hadn’t been fighting for the lives of everyone in Thedas, Mercer would have been rather impressed by the villainous laughter coming from the demon. As it was, she was getting annoyed with being laughed at while trying to turn the damned thing into a pincushion.
They discovered that by disrupting the rift she could momentarily disable whatever demons they were currently facing, leaving them vulnerable to whatever her allies could throw at them. She grinned fiercely as the demon fell to its knees. Who’s laughing now, you bastard.
They were finally making headway, but she was fighting exhaustion as desperately as she fought the demon. Her muscles and lungs burned with fatigue as she loosed arrow after arrow, dodging the the demon’s electricity whip to duck close enough to the rift to disrupt it. Her allies were exhausted as well, but never faltered. She supposed if she was going to get stuck fighting demons with random people she’d met in jail she’d ended up with a good lot.
When the demon finally fell Mercer stumbled toward the rift, arm outstretched. She bit back a scream as light tore from her hand, twining around the edges of the rift, pulling it in on itself. The scream ripped free from her throat as she fell to her knees, pain burning through her as she fought to keep her arm aloft. As her vision darkened she jerked her arm back, snapping the rift closed.
Pain and exhaustion overtook her then. She fell forward, faintly seeing Cassandra’s boots as she lost consciousness. The boots still didn’t have answers for her.