Blood poured into the ocean like spilled ink, staining the waves. Her crown tumbled from her head, falling. Vanishing beneath the water’s surface. Blood, dark and oily, spilled from her mouth as her face began to change. Shift. Twist. Until it was my own. I was the one gasping for air, sinking to my knees.
“Find the pieces!” I screamed, my voice breaking intolayered echoes. Mine, hers, something older. The sword left my chest with a wet rasp, blood spilling from the open wound as I slumped onto the ground. My lifeless eyes snapped open.
I jolted awake, hands clasping my chest. I was in the cave. There was no gaping hole in my chest. It was a nightmare. The fire had burned down to ash. I knew before looking that the Commander was gone, and somehow that made me feel more alone. Cerilla laid at the back of the cave, still fast asleep. Solas was nowhere to be seen either.
I pushed to my feet, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and telling my heart to stop pounding. The air smelled clean, and there was no more rumbling thunder or pounding of rain. The storm had passed. Dawn’s sunlight bled into the mouth of the cave, painting the rocks in a soft glow.
I walked to the cave’s entrance, drawn to the light like something starved. The three horses were resting. Wherever Solas and the Commander were, they couldn’t be far.
The sky was shifting from bruised purple to soft oranges and pinks. The sheer beauty of it made my nightmare seem almost distant. Almost.
It was rather arrogant of them to leave me behind with the opportunity to run, but where would I go?
I sat against the rocks, leaning my head back to watch the sky, mesmerised by its colours. The woman from my dream was the same ghost that led me to my axe. Was she trying to show me who had killed her?
“Are you hurt?” The Commander’s voice startled me, and I jolted upright. My breath hitched. He walked through the trees, muscles covered in dark blue blood, black curls plastered to his forehead. Solas walked next to him, covered in the same gore.
“You were killing Skathari?” I asked, my voice raw.
He ignored me, kneeling in front of me. His black eyes roamed my body as if checking for injuries. Solas gave me a small nod before walking into the cave.
“You do not look injured,” the Commander mused as he pursed his lips, and drew his eyebrows together in thought.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back up at the rising sun.
“You screamed,” he murmured, voice roughened by exhaustion.
Had I screamed in my sleep? My cheeks heated, unable to look in his eyes.
“Ah, you were asleep,” he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion. When I didn’t answer, he turned away, rummaging through Winston’s saddlebag until he found a towel. The muscles in his back flexed beneath drying streaks of blood as he wiped himself clean, movements steady, unhurried. I cursed inwardly when he looked up, catching me watching him with rapt attention.
“Get on the horse,” he said suddenly and I groaned inwardly.
“I would rather choke.”
“I could arrange that.” His smirk turned into a dark chuckle as I glared at him. I should have been thankful for the rest the storm had allowed. I ran my hand along Winston’s mane before placing my foot in the stirrup before swinging my leg over the beast and scrambling up onto his back.
I looked at the Commander expectantly. He quirked an eyebrow at me and crossed his arms across his broad chest, muscles bunching under the strain. I swallowed hard, looking away, almost disappointed that he hadn’t praised me for doing what I was told.
“Go on then, ask your question.”
I lit up, sitting a little straighter in the saddle.
“What do you know about the Soul Relics?”
He glared at me for a moment before tilting his head to the side, assessing me. “Not specific enough.”
“Are they connected to me?” I asked wearily.
He gave me a stiff nod, jaw clenching, eyes turning black for a moment before he blinked it away. My stomach twisted into knots, and I knew without doubt that my axe was a Soul Relic.
“Are you trying to find them?”
He gave another stiff nod before swinging himself up onto the horse behind me. The smell of night air and caramel mingled with the crisp morning breeze, enveloping my senses, and I hated myself for breathing deeper.
Cerilla’s light-hearted laugh echoed over the rocks as she walked out. Solas followed her with a large grin across his face that dissipated under the Commander’s glare.
“We are ready,” Solas said before swinging up onto the saddle. The Commander waited for his sister to mount her horse before whipping Winston’s reins, taking off into the damp forest.
