Chapter Text
She felt her whole body "humming" violently, compelling herself to get up and leave. It's not a feeling she got often but she was feeling it now. Slowly, she slid her fingers up to where her left eye used to be, before she realized her hand was glowing. Pulling it back from her face, she noticed she wasn't bleeding anymore. 'That's good...' she thought before getting up and trying her hardest to stand. The sky was flashing green, and the land was foggy. Her stomach began to turn as she questioned where she was, because it sure as hell wasn't Thedas.
"You must hurry!" a voice urgently calling out to Minerva from above, "You have little time!"
Looking up, she finally saw the light of gold coming from on top of a cliff, as well as a woman. Her head began to ache and pulse as she moved, her blood buzzing along with her body now while she reached for the steep cliff. It was til she took her second step up that it hit her, the feeling of terror as the sound of skittering and screeching filled the air. Quickly, she'd turn to see the shadows into the hideous creatures straight from her very own nightmares. 'How is this possible?!' The panic began to set in, making her climb faster frantically, her feet slipping as she closed her eye. The golden hand reached for her, 'my only hope!' she thought before feeling them grasping her leg and their gripping only intensifying. Without thinking, she leaped for this golden woman, whomever she was, with tears running down her face, praying to whatever god that would listen before the blinding flash.
"I'm dead.." she whispered while a cold breeze brushed against her skin, giving her body the goose bumps, "I must be."
The weight of her spiked iron armor finally caught up to her, making her collapse and fall to her hands and knees, tears continuing down her pale skin. Her heart kept beating uncontrollably, the pulse muffling the voices coming closer. She ran on instinct now, like a feral animal with its back to the wall, reaching for her great axe she named "Legacy". "You'll never...take...me...alive demons" she muttered as her vision grew blurry and she falls to the ground, unable to move or speak from exhaustion as the voices became clearer.
"Seeker Pentaghast! Over here!" a man yelled, only for it turn to a whisper among nearby comrades, "Did you see her?! Not the elf, but that woman! She glowed!"
"Must have been Andraste. There's no other reason why she lives! Especially in there..." a deeper voice speaks.
"Quit your chattering and bring her to the Chantry for interrogation!" a woman yelled in a different accent.
'Definitely humans,' Minerva thought to herself 'but the first could be elven or human.' She began to tremble as a loud crackle rang through the air above them. Her body began to hum once more along with her glowing hand, but this time it was accompanied with overwhelming agony. Minerva tried to scream but the only things audible were whimpers.
'I wish I was dead.'
FEW HOURS LATER...
"Any luck Solas?" Cassandra asked eagerly as she paced back and forth.
"Patience is a Virtue, Seeker." he replied, sitting with his legs crossed and eyes closed, trying to meditate. His very core began to tingle as he got close to Minerva, as if she was lyrium itself, and he was the certain that Cassandra could feel it to. This elf was intriguing indeed.
"Is something we do not have Solas."
"Which is why I require silence!"
Cassandra continued to pace, being on edge after the explosion. She was the Divine's protector and Right Hand, and the thought of Justinia being alone in the cold or worse made her cringe.
"I'm going out to aid the injured, tell me if anything new comes to pass," Cassandra stated as she marched out, opening the door to see the Breach, a sight that didn't put her mind at ease. Sighing and shaking her head, she had to keep busy, so she continued down to road to help the injured as best she could.
Silence finally fell within the cell room, putting a smirk on Solas' face. It seemed, to him at least, the Seeker was the only thing that kept him from concentrating on the task at hand. As he slowly began to dream, the Anchor, which he decided to call it, crackled loudly, only to be followed by a grunt from the elf in front of him. With his attention to her, he couldn't help but notice the features which were prominently different than most elves he's met, Dalish or City Elves alike.
For one, her long dark red hair that flowed down to her shoulders, as well as cover her left eye. This told him that she was unlikely a slave or city elf, seeing how most he's met keep their hair up so it doesn't became a distraction from the many chores/services they provide, though the possibility that she was still one remained.
Secondly, hiding behind a long strand of hair, was a large wound where her left eye used to be. Simply staring into the spot made Solas feel uneasy, more so as the questions began to compile in his head.' How did she get it? Was it from the incident at the Conclave? No, its much older than that. The stripes of red that have caked on the left side of her face is a telling sign. Her tolerance for pain is at an extreme. Who did this to her? Thoughts for another time perhaps,' he thought angrily.
Just to be sure, he reached over to the other, opening it to see if any abnormalities occurred that would be problematic in the near future. He gazed deeply into her emerald eye, though it was still unresponsive, noticed slivers of blue pierced though to her pupil,
"Research.." he said to a former templar that watched him intently.
Finally, and possibly the most glaring difference beside her missing eye, the tattoos that have laced her neck as well as her palms. 'Not Dalish, those are easy to spot. No, Tevinter in style.' They were white which left Solas confused, as the artistry wouldn't show against her pale-skin, until he slid his hand upon hers. 'A charge?', he thought as mana flowed through him, '..then it must be lyrium-based ink.'
He became enraged that someone could willing put another through a level of agony he couldn't imagine, especially since it was done to a sister elf.
"Now's not the time for this," he said, "I must concentrate!" One thing was for certain in his mind, its almost impossible to be more impressed by the woman resting before him, and she hasn't been awake for less than five minutes.