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Chapter Text

The Tarnished Eowyn sheathed her sword, the Rivers of Blood, and sighed. She looked down at the broken pieces of stone that were once the Goddess Queen Marika the Eternal. The all-powerful woman that once shaped the Lands Between with just her voice, dead. Her children, missing or slain by this same tarnished.

Eowyn was Elden Lord in all but name. Only one action left before setting forth a new era with her at the helm. The tarnished warrior looked to the fog separating her from the Elden Throne and back at the fractured Marika. It would be so easy to mend the Elden Ring, to sit on that throne and proclaim her rightful title. But one treacherous thought plagued her mind and paralyzed her steps.

Why should she repeat this cycle again? Is her purpose to live her life repeatedly, retracing the steps she once took and killing the demigods over and over?

She has done all of this before. The first time Eowyn killed the Elden Beast and mended the Elden Ring it was in Marika’s image and the Golden Order. She sat on the throne and allowed herself a smile, thinking she finally made it to the end of her journey.

The next morning she woke in the Stranded Graveyard.

The next cycle was devoted to Ranni the Witch; one that hated the Golden Order and had the power to change it. Eowyn quickly sought her out, and practically worshipped her every move. She killed for her, delved into the farthest reaches of the Lands Between for her, and sacrificed her very soul for her. And when Eowyn defeated the Elden Beast again she summoned Ranni to celebrate. Ranni offered her a thousand year voyage into the darkness and Eowyn leapt at the chance. The tarnished Elden Lord basked in the approving presence of her azure goddess as the night lorded over day.

The next morning she woke in the Stranded Graveyard.

Then Eowyn burned down the world. She sought the Frenzied Flame under the Capital and allowed the Three Fingers to burn her to her core. Eowyn destroyed everything she once held dear in a fit of madness and rage. And when the Lands Between became a smoking crater and the very air was fire, the next morning she woke in the Stranded Graveyard.

This time, Eowyn became a benefactor to everyone she could. She told Boc, her demihuman seamster, that he was beautiful and kissed his forehead any time he lamented his animal-like looks. Eowyn found Roderika and gave her the memento of her comrades. She told the downtrodden girl all she knew of spirit tuning and escorted her to the Roundtable Hold to meet the Blacksmith, smiling thinly as they met for the first time once again. She told D where to find his brother and how to help him. Corhyn was taken straight to Goldmask. She found Millicent and supported her in every way she could. Everyone was helped. Everyone was saved. All except one.

Melina furiously argued about her purpose, surprised and enraged that Eowyn knew her goal and wanted to save her. The pseudo Maiden shook her head at Eowyn, baffled that she cared enough not to allow her to burn her life away. Melina abandoned Eowyn eventually when she puzzled out how her tarnished planned to usurp her supposed reason for existing. Eowyn still went into the lair of the Three Fingers and stole their mad fire. She still burned down the Erdtree with that same Flame. And when the deed was done she took Miquella’s Unalloyed Needle and pierced her breast outside of Time itself, severing her connection with the Frenzied Flame. Melina was alive even if she didn’t want to be. Eowyn wanted to save everyone.

And now she was here. At the end of all things. Tomorrow she would wake in that Stranded Graveyard and everything she has done would be undone. Everyone she saved would be again in peril. And the damned Elden Ring would be shattered once again.

“Why dost I dwell in this realm? Is't but to endure naught but suffering? Doth this signify the essence of being tarnished, prithee?” Eowyn muttered, her voice hoarse with disuse. Suddenly overcome with fury, Eowyn picked up the head of the broken Marika and threw it as far as she could with a futile scream. The severed head flew through the air and disappeared into the Erdtree’s depths. Eowyn stood breathing deeply and scowling through her horned Veteran’s Helmet, her blue eyes glassy and her full ruby lips twisted in anger.

“I shall not undertake this toil anew.” She denied. Eowyn shook her head vehemently and paced, caught up in her rage and despair. She stopped and shouted at the walls of the Erdtree’s insides.

“I SHALL NOT PARTAKE IN THIS WRETCHED CYCLE ANEW!”

Eowyn whipped her head toward the fog wall. She strode purposefully to it and threw her gauntleted hand at the mist. She called upon all of her considerable power and the power of the Elden Ring residing in her breast, and broke through the hazy barrier.

Then suddenly she was falling. Her scream of panic was lost in the wind rushing past her face. Colors unknown whooshed by; green leaves, indigo streams of magic, golden wings of light. All flew past the tarnished faster than she could recognize them. The Rune Arcs of the Elden Ring pulsed madly in her chest along with her heart. Eowyn continued to scream as she tumbled downward into endless space.

Time ceased to flow as Eowyn fell. But now she could see shapes form. Castles and towers in the distance far below, a green tinged mist permeating everything. Directly below, the tarnished saw what could be a temple or monastery surrounded by mountainous terrain. Her panicked screams that once subsided started again as she rapidly fell toward the stone roof of the temple. Before her body could hit the stone at terminal velocity, Eowyn was whisked into a green portal of swirling light.

The portal deposited the tarnished into a formless void painted in a hazy, verdant green. She landed none too gently on what seemed to be stone, her helmeted head striking the ground hard enough for her to see black spots. Her left arm burned with pins and needles, but Eowyn could still move it without trouble, so it wasn’t broken.

Eowyn looked around in confusion. Was this still the Lands Between? Was she still in the Erdtree?

There were green tinged stone steps leading up near where Eowyn landed and she stood to brush herself off and climb them. Even though the fall was easily enough to kill her on impact, the tarnished felt little pain. She walked up the steps and looked toward her destination. Ahead there stood an arch presumably leading to a chamber of some sort. Eowyn walked into the chamber and onward past many doors and rooms empty of life or any other matter.

The tarnished pressed forward until she started to hear voices. The room in front of her held a people, Eowyn heard the commanding voice of a man, and the whimpering voice of a woman. Other voices filled the din as well, followers of the commanding voice she supposed. Eowyn willed her weapon of choice into her hand and in a flash of gold the Sword of Night and Flame appeared into being. Eowyn marched forward and burst through the door.

“Prepare the Sacrifice!” The commanding voice called. Eowyn could now see that it belonged to a tall shadowy figure masked by darkness. There were cloaked figures stringing up an aged woman that wore an ornate robe and a strange hat that stood boxlike on her head. The woman looked around frantically and spotted Eowyn. Her eyes widened in awe and she cried.

“Please, help me!” The woman yelled, looking right at Eowyn. The tarnished readied her weapon as the shadow’s minions were made known of her presence.

“We have an intruder!” The shadow boomed. “Kill her!” it commanded, pointing a long finger toward the tarnished. As the cloaked men approached, Eowyn grinned and fell into stance. One minion closest to Eowyn leapt at her with his sword drawn. Eowyn raised the Sword of Night and Flame around her head in an arc before slashing outward. Flames surged forward instantly, catching the first man with a cut off scream of pain. Several of the knaves behind him were swathed in flame, dying in burning agony. As more rushed towards her, Eowyn readied a beam of starlight from the blade, vaporizing her enemies in a line of destructive magic. Eowyn willed the Sword away and another into being. Her gauntleted hands clutched Vyke’s War Spear as she leaped high into the air. Turning the spear downward and summoning the Frenzied Flame, Eowyn aimed toward the last remaining minions. As the men perished in flames gripping their heads tightly in madness, Eowyn turned her gaze to the commanding shadow.

“Release her forthwith and begone.” She ordered in a low voice. The shadow held an orb aloft in its hand and green energy spread from it, filling the chamber.

“No! You ruined the ritual!” the shadow yelled, its voice echoing against the walls. Eowyn clenched her fist around her spear and readied another attack. However something then occurred that neither planned. The orb’s green energy surged outward and slammed into Eowyn, knocking her off her feet.

“You fool!” the shadow cried as it disappeared. Eowyn looked around for the old woman and couldn’t see her anymore either. It was like the green energy transported Eowyn elsewhere. The tarnished then started to hear a ghastly sound. Chittering and the clicking of many many legs. Eowyn saw strange insects crawling swiftly toward her and got an incantation ready to burn them all away.

“Hurry! Come to me!” A feminine voice boomed. It seemed to belong to a figure made of pure light high above. Eowyn looked between the woman of light and the spiders coming ever closer, and started to run. Eowyn raced quickly up a stairway that inexplicably appeared before her and reached the woman who held out a blinding hand. Eowyn grabbed the hand with her own and was overcome with white light.

When Eowyn could see again, she was lying on a stone floor surrounded by crimson stone and armed men.

“She’s alive!”

“She appeared from the Fade!”

“Who was that figure of light behind her?”

The men were all yelling loudly and pointing their weapons at Eowyn. She tried to stand but was swiftly mastered by fatigue. Her face hit the cold hard stone again and she groaned.

“Get her up. The Seeker will want to meet this one.” One voice said and then suddenly arms were grabbing at Eowyn and hauling her up. The men carried her forward and Eowyn let them as she succumbed to sleep.

Eowyn woke to the clacking of heeled boots across the stone floor. Someone was approaching and they weren’t alone. The tarnished got up quickly and spied the area. She was in a dungeon cell lit by torches and locked by a heavy metal door. There was no window, but there were men surrounding her, she realized. Men with swords pointing at her and faces hidden by iron helmets.

Her left arm tingled unpleasantly. Eowyn looked down to see a green lightning arc from her left hand unbidden. What could that be? Her hands were bound as well. Thick manacles encased her bare wrists. The rest of her armor was still on thankfully.

The heeled boots finally reached her cell. They belonged to a tall woman in light armor with short dark hair and scars that littered her beautiful yet scowling face. She was accompanied by another comely woman with short red hair and dark eyes hidden by a hood.

The dark haired woman unlocked the cell and strode inside, unsheathing her sword as she did. Her scowl morphed into a rictus of fury.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now! The Conclave destroyed, the Divine murdered and the only survivor is you!” She shouted at Eowyn. The tarnished stood tall, undaunted by the rage of this woman.

“Brigands. Where hast thou secreted away mine gauntlets?” She replied instead. The manacles on her wrists were rusted with blood, a paltry exchange for her Veteran’s Gauntlets.

“Defiance won’t aid you here.” The hooded woman said quietly. Eowyn noted that the woman’s hands were hidden.

“Explain this.” The angry woman commanded and grabbed Eowyn’s left hand. At that moment green lightning sparked from it. Eowyn took the pain stoically.

“What dost thou wish thy wot? I know not how this schism got on my palm nor can I saye aught of the strange lightnings tis casts.” Eowyn answered. Obviously these women knew nothing of that green realm or the shadow man.

“You’re lying!” The angry woman cried and made to impale Eowyn on her sword. The tarnished readied the Wrath of Gold incantation and called forth her Frenzied Flame Seal into her hand. Before either woman could follow through the hooded woman stepped forward and grabbed the shoulder of her comrade.

“We need her, Cassandra.” She called, moving the dark haired woman away from Eowyn. Cassandra huffed, but sheathed her sword. The tarnished did not relax, but held from further action.

“Go to the forward camp Leliana. I will take the prisoner to the rift.” She said and motioned for Eowyn to follow her out the cell.

“Eowyn.” Declared the tarnished. Cassandra and Leliana froze and turned to look at her. “Thou shalt address me as Eowyn, no prisoner am I.” These people had a strange way of speech, but Eowyn was not cowed by their threats. Cassandra and Leliana shared a guarded look.

“Eowyn then. The Breach is something you need to see for yourself.” Cassandra said in a calmer voice than before.

Cassandra led Eowyn out onto a bridge in the clear air. Eowyn breathed in deeply. Even with the stench of death and blood, the air was fresher than in the dungeon. Eowyn looked up and saw a massive swirling green fissure in the sky. Green lightning much like the kind on her hand crackled every other moment from it and it was visibly expanding.

“Thy trow I wrought that rift?” Eowyn asked Cassandra incredulously. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.

“An explosion that destroyed the Conclave and killed many people, including the Divine Justinia created that. We call it the Breach. It is a rift between our world and the world of demons and it’s getting bigger by the minute.” Cassandra explained. At that moment a loud boom crashed from the Breach, causing green energy to splash outward and Eowyn to inhale quickly through her nose from the pain. She suddenly wondered if sites of Grace were in this world, or if she finally lost the ability to see them. Eowyn looked at her still bound hand. The mark grew on past her wrist already.

“This mark, tis linked to the rift.” Eowyn guessed out loud. Cassandra nodded, taking out a knife from her pocket and working on Eowyn’s binds.

“Every time the Breach expands it causes your mark to flare. I believe it is killing you. But it may be the key to stopping all of this.” Cassandra said as she cut Eowyn’s binds free. Eowyn rubbed her wrists and shook her hands a little. The Frenzied Flame Seal was still in her palm, the yellow fire mingling with the green lightning of the mark.

“The key? Thou believe tis woul’t cleave the rift asunder? Mayhap tis shall shut the rift entire, mayhap tis mark shalt make th’ rift cloak the entire realm.” Eowyn intoned, looking at Cassandra’s paling face. The tarnished’s shaggy dire wolf cape rippled in the wind as Eowyn faced the Breach. She remembered that shadowed man with the orb and the old woman crying for aid. She couldn’t let that fiend get away if he was the one to cause all of this. Eowyn made up her mind. These people were prickly, but they needed her help. After all, she wanted to save everyone in this cycle, even if she was no longer in the Lands Between.

“Neverth’less I shalt aid thee. Tis not I who wrought mine mark or thine Breach.” Eowyn shot a meaningful look at Cassandra, who gasped in shock.

“You know who caused the explosion! I demand you tell me!” Cassandra shouted in a loud voice. Eowyn calmly gazed at the disturbed woman.

“Demand?” Eowyn repeated rhetorically with a raised eyebrow, then sighed. “Tis was a man cloaked in shadow, in a realm of mists and green towers.” She recalled in a near whisper. Cassandra leaned forward to hear over the din of the Breach.

“A realm of mists? My men said you fell out of the Fade. Could that be the realm you speak of?” Cassandra asked quickly. Eowyn made a noncommittal sound.

“Mayhap it wert, I know not of thine Fade.” Eowyn allowed before turning to face Cassandra. “We ought t’ go to Thine Breach and behold the might of mine own mark.” She raised her marked hand shoulder height and gazed at it. Cassandra looked at the mark as well and felt trepidation grow in her heart.

“There are smaller rifts that appeared after the explosion. We can try to close one of those first.” Cassandra said before heading off toward the end of the bridge. As Eowyn followed, she spoke in a low tone. Soldiers and peasants were lined against the walls of the bridge clutching wounds and glaring at Eowyn. The tarnished woman locked eyes with each person she saw and pierced them with a vision of regal compassion. It wasn’t their fault they were hurt in the explosion or by demons just as Eowyn wasn’t to blame.

“These people believe in your guilt. They need someone to blame and all they have is you.” Cassandra revealed. Eowyn clinched her marked fist and readied her Seal.

“Thou hast wounded folk.” Eowyn said to the Seeker, then raised her voice to call out to everyone on the bridge. “Come hither all ye! Lo, be healed!” Eowyn then knelt down on one knee and recalled the Miracle of Erdtree Heal. A dome of golden light encased the tarnished and exploded outward across the whole bridge. The soldiers and peasants gasped and jumped back as the light passed over them. But even still their wounds closed in front of their eyes without a scar. Wonderment was etched on every face as they surveyed themselves.

However, the awe was short-lived. Suspicion rose swiftly in its place. Even Cassandra jumped back and unsheathed her sword.

“Mage!” She announced with suspicious eyes and her sword pointed at Eowyn. The Tarnished rose and looked around in confusion.

“Tis not sorcery Cassandra. Tis an incantation. A remembrance of a miraculous deed.” Eowyn said calmly but her eyes were on the Seeker’s sword. Cassandra held her stance a moment longer before sheathing her weapon and turning to another soldier and shaking her head. The soldier took a hand off the hilt of his sword as well.
One peasant, a tired looking woman with dark hair and a small child on her hip cautiously approached Eowyn with grateful eyes.

“Thank you! You healed the cuts on my child’s belly! Oh thank the Maker!” She enthused and quickly grabbed Eowyn’s cloak before backing away, as if she wished to merely touch her savior. Eowyn was then accosted by a soldier coming from behind her and saying in a low but fervent voice.

“You healed me as well. Thank you.”

As more people became emboldened to show her gratitude, Eowyn nodded kindly at them and then looked at Cassandra. “Thine rift Seeker?” she reminded. Cassandra looked away but motioned Eowyn to follow her.

They travelled past the bridge up a mountain path. Eowyn was called to mind the Consecrated Snowfield but judged that this path was nothing in sooth to that land. The blizzards clouding her vision, the hostile Albinaurics shooting arrows from afar, and the bitter cold that permeated every inch of the realm. This jaunt up a snowy hill was a light stroll in comparison. In fact, Eowyn felt energized not only by the gratitude given to her by those she healed, but by the new adventure unfolding before her. After so many cycles and journeys in the same lands, the tarnished warrior was excited for a new experience.

Eowyn ran forward past Cassandra up the path. As she crested the hill she saw a green scar cleaving the very air below. Waves of energy poured from the rift and strange creatures appeared from the mists. A bald man with a staff was battling one such creature along with a short redheaded man that wielded a large crossbow. Without waiting for the Seeker Eowyn jumped and slid down the short cliff toward what she assumed were the aforementioned demons.

These creatures looked like living cloaks with clawed arms and bright eyes. Eowyn was instantly disgusted by them. They reeked of evil and despair. The tarnished warrior called upon her katana, the Rivers of Blood, and rushed to face her new enemies. She slashed at the closest shade and was joyed to see her sword damage it. With two slashes she dispatched the first demon and spun to face the next. In her periphery Eowyn saw Cassandra locked in combat with another demon. Letting loose a volley of slashes that caught the hapless shade on fire, Eowyn burned through the shades that opposed her.

When the demons were all vanquished Eowyn banished her sword and set her sight on the rift. It looked like a floating crystal now, ever contorting emeralds. It looked… weaker than before. Eowyn felt a pulse from her left hand and reached out. A green tendril of arcing lightning linked her hand to the rift and she pulled with all of her might. The rift exploded in a blink, green energy roiling over them all and disappearing. Eowyn felt a bit of vigor grow in her from sealing this rift. Maybe sealing more of them will give the tarnished even more strength?

The bald man and the dwarf came closer.

“You did it.” The bald man congratulated with a nod. His voice was deep and calming.

“Tis the mark linked with these rifts.” Eowyn answered. She realized the man’s ears were very long and pointed. His eyes spoke of a deep intelligence worthy of his comely face.

“Whatever created the Breach also caused the mark to appear on your hand. I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have been opened in the Breach’s wake, and it seemed I was correct.” He added smugly.

“Meaning it could also close the Breach.” Cassandra said almost as a question to the bald man.

“Possibly.” He evaded.

“Good to know. Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” the short man quipped as he swung his crossbow across his back. He walked toward Eowyn and introduced himself. “Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller and occasional unwelcome tagalong.” The last part was said with a wink to Cassandra who answered with a scowl.

“Thy crossbow doth please me well.” Eowyn replied with an indulgent smile. Varric preened as if she complimented his own looks. Upon a closer study Eowyn may have been prone to do just that. Varric Tethras, though much shorter than her, had a ruggedly handsome face and a chestful of rust colored hair open to the air.

“Bianca is a beauty isn’t she?” Varric said, tapping the crossbow affectionately.

“Thy crossbow is named Bianca? How strange.” Eowyn replied curiously. Varric grinned.

“We’ve been through a lot together, and she’ll be a big help in the valley.”

At that point Cassandra butted in furiously. “I only had you here to tell your story to the Divine! Your help is appreciated Master Tethras, but-”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? “ Varric interrupted. “It’s nearly overrun with demons. Face it, you need me.” He finished with a smarmy grin. Cassandra made a sound of disgust and looked away.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Solas, the bald man stated. Eowyn nodded to him and Varric with a small smile.

“I am called Eowyn, tarnished warrior. I hail from the Lands Between.” Eowyn introduced herself, looking between her new companions. They seemed puzzled by her title but quickly moved on.

“I am pleased to see you yet live.” Solas added. Eowyn sent him a confused look.

“He means he kept you alive while you slept.” Varric explained, though Solas’ bland look turned sour. Eowyn looked between them.

“I used healing magic and wards to keep your mark from expanding, though it didn’t help much.” Solas said bitterly.

“Dost thy sorcery hold no sway o’er me?” Eowyn queried. Solas’ head tilted at the question, but then smiled ruefully.

“My healing magic did indeed affect you, just not as much as I’d hoped. The mark is beyond my healing capabilities,” he replied.

“I render thee thanks noneth’less, O mage.” Eowyn said with a small bow toward Solas. He appeared a bit more gratified.

“Solas is an apostate, like you seem to be.” Cassandra added.

“Technically all mages are now apostates, Seeker.” Solas countered blandly. Eowyn scowled.

“I am no traitor to mine own faith.” the tarnished denied. Solas quickly attempted to calm her.

“An apostate is just a mage that is not a part of a circle. My travels allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to give whatever help I could with the Breach. If it is not closed we are all doomed regardless of origin” He explained then turned to Cassandra. “Seeker you should know this magic is unlike any I’ve encountered. Whether or not Eowyn is a mage, I find it difficult to imagine anyone having such power.”

Eowyn did not wish to tell them of the Elden Ring in her breast, or that she held enough power to wash this world away in flames this very moment. She merely watched as Cassandra nodded to Solas and beckoned them to the forward camp. Varric commented that at least Bianca was excited as he followed after the Seeker. The tarnished smiled at the smaller man’s jest. Cassandra and Solas seemed to be grim and serious, but Varric strove to break any tension that built up and Eowyn could appreciate his efforts.

Chapter Text

Eowyn, Cassandra, Solas and Varric made their way to the forward camp. Along the way Eowyn saw the Breach spew out viridescent balls of fire that crashed into the ground at random. More demons appeared and the tarnished was given another opportunity to see her new companions in action.

“Demons ahead!” Cassandra shouted with her sword already in hand. Varric readied a bolt in Bianca and Solas took out his staff, spinning it expertly in his palm. Eowyn willed the Hand of Malenia into her grip and prepared an emulation of the Waterfowl Dance. She felt Solas’ eyes on her and looked over at him.

“How did you do that?” The long eared mage started to ask but then mastered himself. “Never mind, there will be plenty of time for questions later I’m sure.” He stated before casting ice magic at the shades.

“That’s if we make it out alive, Chuckles.” Varric grunted in sync with a triple burst of bolts from his crossbow. All struck true.

“Fear not. We shall endure, brave souls.” The tarnished declared, then rose into the air. Her dire wolf cape swirled about and sunlight glinted across Eowyn’s Veteran armor, surrounding her in an ethereal glow. Snow and ice kicked upwards as Eowyn danced between the demons, weaving throughout the battlefield with deadly grace. Slash after slash cut the shades down until all perished. The Hand of Malenia vanished from Eowyn’s clutches and she surveyed her comrades for any pains. They were all watching her in awe and curiosity.

“Okay, I’m with Chuckles on this one. How did you do that?” Varric asked her plainly after placing Bianca back in its place. Eowyn noted that Solas and Cassandra froze to listen to her reply, the Seeker’s eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Verily, I am Tarnished. I possess a multitude of armaments from which to select.” Eowyn clarified. Her explanation didn’t seem to quell their curious stares.

“What does it mean to be Tarnished?” Cassandra asked. “That sounds like a curse from the name alone.”

Eowyn sighed, almost penitently. “Tis a foul curse for truth. To bear the Tarnished is to be pursued without respite in the Lands Between.” she said in a murmur that belied her painful memories. Her companions looked shocked and outraged, to their credit. It seemed Eowyn surrounded herself with compassionate people fairly swiftly. Suspicious, but kind.

“Where is this Lands Between?” Solas asked next. “Is that what you call the Fade?”

“Nay, tis not the Fade.” Eowyn denied and looked inward. “So, this realm be not the Lands Between after all.” She murmured to herself, though her companions heard.
“You’re telling me you’re from another world, kid?” Varric said incredulously. “I should’ve stayed in bed, today keeps getting stranger by the minute.” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I shan’t speak more of it.” Eowyn declared and started to move on. “We must haste to the Breach anon and smite the demons forthwith.” No one opposed and so on they went.

They continued in silence for a while, passing by snow covered trees as their steps made crunching prints in the slush. They travelled past ruins of stone and toward a stairway going upward. At the top of the stairway along the beaten and faded path, more demons and strange green shades roamed chaotically. The Breach loomed, an ominous beacon in the sky ahead of them.

“Foul fiends.” Eowyn proclaimed and lifted her right hand with fingers spread. The Sword of Night and Flame blinked into existence in her grasp and the tarnished rushed forward.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Varric muttered and prepared Bianca for battle. Solas gave Eowyn support silently, his eyes squinting in concentration. Cassandra fiercely roared and clashed her sword with her shield, causing the demons to target and move towards her. She met them head on with a wide slash.

Eowyn pivoted through the crowd of shades and dropped into a stance. She called upon the Flame and arced her sword above her head and out, and flames spilled forth in a wave. Several demons were caught in the fires and burned to ash. More were vaporized by a midnight beam of magic that raced from the blade moments later.

Their enemies were soon dispatched by their teamwork. Eowyn’s companions were able to hold their own against the demons with deft skill, clearly they were fierce warriors in their own right.

Cassandra sheathed her sword and looked around. “I hope Leliana was able to make it through this.” she fretted.

“She’s resourceful, Seeker.” Varric encouraged absently.

“We’ll see for ourselves at the forward camp. We’re almost there.” Solas added.

“Prithee, let us hie forth.” Eowyn called from in front of them. The path led to a large stone gate with its door barred. Soldiers guarding the gate were furiously battling demons as a rift spun out new enemies above them. Eowyn didn’t hesitate and flashed forward, her Hand of Malenia already manifested. After a swift route, the demons disappeared and Eowyn seized the rift with her marked hand.

“Seal it! Quickly!” Solas shouted as Eowyn pulled against the rift and the green lightning that bound her to it. The rift exploded into verdant sparks and the company put away their weapons for a respite.

“Open the gates! The rift is gone!” Cassandra ordered the guards that stood in awe of what they just witnessed. They jumped out of their stupor and opened the giant gate leading to a massive bridge. Eowyn strode forward, passing soldiers and armories lining the walls. She recognized Leliana ahead arguing with a man wearing similar robes to the woman from the realm of green haze, including the bizarre hat.

“Enough! I won’t stand for it!” The man shouted irately. Leliana stood poised.

“You will not order me.” She warned him in a low voice. Then she looked up and saw the company coming closer. “Ah, just in time. Chancellor, the one I mentioned earlier-”

“I know who this is.” The chancellor revealed with a scowl. “As High chancellor I command you to arrest this prisoner and prepare her for trial in Val Royeaux” he decreed, his eyes boring into Cassandra’s.

“You dare command me?!” She raged. “You are but a clerk!”

“And you are a thug, but a thug that supposedly serves the Chantry!” He shot back. Before Cassandra could retort, Eowyn stepped forward.

“I be not a prisoner, and ere the Breach be sealed, I shall not be taken into custody.” Eowyn declared with a regal aura that entranced the chancellor. He gulped nervously, his eyes unable to look away from the warrior before him. She radiated danger and majesty alike. Her blue eyes blazed with defiance.

“Dost thou behold yonder mark upon mine hand? I am the sole bearer capable of sealing the Breach. Join thy valorous strength with mine!” The otherworldly warrior raised her left hand up just as the Breach caused it to crackle with green lightning. The viridescent energy made eldritch shapes across her grim face.

“I-I but you caused all of this!” Chancellor Roderick blurted indignantly. Eowyn shook her helmeted head in denial. Leliana stood to the side of the chancellor and watched the exchange quietly.

“Verily, none of this befallest my honor. Pray, I shall impart further tidings once this matter be rectified. Trust in me, good Chancellor. I shall set all to right henceforth.” Eowyn proclaimed and her stern visage melted into such a tender smile the chancellor gasped. In his mind, the tarnished seemed to perceive his very heart, and thereby captured it. His face slowly changed from fearful anger to one of hope.

“I-I, yes. Please, help our soldiers trapped up there.” The chancellor acceded with a sigh, much to the surprise of everyone in the vicinity, especially Leliana and Cassandra.

“W-what?! Just like that you fold?” Leliana asked in disbelief. She looked from the chancellor to Eowyn and narrowed her eyes. “Did you use blood magic?” she accused the tarnished.

“What did you do?!” Cassandra demanded and gripped Eowyn’s shoulder to turn toward her. Eowyn stood her ground.

“I have wrought no deed of ill. I am no recusant! Yet, I alone hold in mine ken the power to seal the Breach. The chancellor doth knoweth this and comprehends it well.” The tarnished said again, and set a gaze of warning on Cassandra. The Seeker released her grip with a huff, but her eyes never left Eowyn’s. Leliana surveyed their dynamic with dark eyes.

“I have a troop of scouts in the mountains but I’ve lost contact with them. If you take that path forward it will be more dangerous, but you could come across survivors that may need aid.” Leliana eventually charted after a long look shared with Cassandra. Her eyes flicked toward the chancellor, who was still staring at the tarnished knight.

“There is a faster way.” Cassandra countered. “We go through the temple, our soldiers will storm the area with us.”

“But my scouts are still up there!” Leliana implored.

“We must seal the Breach quickly or more will die!” Solas abruptly interrupted them.

“Solas speaks true. Yet we hath no need of yon soldiers to accompany us. We shall traverse the treacherous mountain path and deliver any scout who yet draweth breath.” Eowyn decided. Leliana looked grateful and the chancellor strange, a vindicated smile blooming across his face. Cassandra didn’t argue and nodded at Eowyn. The tarnished looked to Varric and Solas with an open expression. Varric waved his hands in front of himself and shook his head.

“Don’t look at me. You seem perfectly capable of handling this, kid.” he deferred with an easy grin.

“Though time is of the essence, rescuing those scouts is commendable.” Solas added calmly. Eowyn nodded at them and stepped forward. As she walked past the chancellor she smiled at him again, making his face burn crimson. His eyes tracked Eowyn’s every movement. Cassandra barked orders at the men lining the bridge and strode forward imperiously.

As the company ventured onward Eowyn heard the chancellor furiously interrogate Leliana in hushed tones.

“Who is that woman?! Where did she come from?”

Leliana’s quiet laugh was lost in the icy winds.

As they traveled up the mountain path and battled more shades, Eowyn noticed her companions watching her. The moment they found time to catch their breath, she turned to them.

“What dost thou seek? Why dost thou scrutinize mine every move with such ardor?” Eowyn questioned her company. Solas and Cassandra stepped forward, but the Seeker was quicker to speak.

“What did you do to chancellor Roderick? Are you a blood mage?” Cassandra probed bluntly with no small amount of suspicion. Her hands seemed to itch for her sword. Eowyn gazed at her calmly.

“Hast not I already imparted unto thee? I employeth not the dark arts of blood for any intent.” Eowyn replied placidly. Cassandra did not accept such a simple explanation.

“Then how did you change the chancellor’s mind?! Only a blood mage could do such a thing so effortlessly!” She countered. Eowyn frowned, unliking the derogatory term.

“Verily, I did speak unto him that which he yearned to behold. It so cometh to pass that it aligneth with the truth, indeed. I held no sway o'er thy chancellor, yet methinks he mayhap found favor in mine visage.” Eowyn answered, catching Varric’s eyes with a wink and a small smirk. The dwarf chuckled quietly.

“Cut her some slack Seeker. Maybe Tarnished here is just the chancellor’s type.” Varric joked. Cassandra made a noise of disgust but left it at that. Solas then stepped beside Eowyn.

“You carry many secrets it seems. I would like to discuss more with you when we have the chance. I want to know your opinion of the Fade and of your time in your Lands Between.” He implored in his calm voice. It seemed Eowyn’s companions opted once again to trust her words.

Eowyn was used to distrust, the yellow eyed Nomadic merchants she bartered with in the Lands Between trusted only runes and nothing else. Then there was Gideon Ofnir, who even tried to have her assassinated simply because he didn’t think she could be trusted with even one half of a secret medallion. Even Melina, Eowyn’s constant companion throughout her journey wouldn’t trust the tarnished fully with her secrets, though her reticence regarding the Frenzied Flame was understandable. Eowyn’s heart pulsed with a wistful pain as she thought of her fair finger maiden.

Hopefully things won’t devolve to that level here. Eowyn missed having companions along to aid her journeys. It would be a terrible shame to have to slaughter all of these people, though the tarnished wouldn’t hesitate if they attacked her in any way. If there was anything the tarnished warrior was used to, it was being alone and hunted by every being in the realm.

“I wouldst desire so as well, dear Solas. When the breach be secured, seek me forthwith.” Eowyn answered the apostate’s request. Solas’ eyes widened a fraction before he nodded, his lips turning upward minutely.

“Hasten forth, for we must seek out yon scouts posthaste!” Eowyn declared. The others agreed and they pressed onward.

Another rift was opened along their path and Eowyn spied wounded scouts among the demons summoned near it. She hurried forward and willed the Starscourge Great-swords into her hands. The tarnished lifted Radahn’s intricately carved onyx great swords above her head and called upon the innate gravity magic within. With a fierce cry she forced the demons to converge near her with a wave of purple magic, then slammed the weapons down. In a burst of unstoppable force around her, the demons were blown away, vanquished in one mighty blow.

The veteran helmed knight wasted no time connecting with the crystalized rift and breaking it apart. Solas approached with soft bare feet.

“You are becoming quite proficient at this.” Solas noted. At that moment a scout limped forward, their face shining with gratitude.

“Thank the Maker you arrived when you did. We thought this was it for us.” They praised. Eowyn focused on their injuries, her countenance stern.

“Thou art wounded! Approach hither, that I may tend to thy hurts.” Eowyn commanded, yet the scouts needn’t be told twice. They gathered near the tarnished as she knelt and prepared her seal for another miracle. Golden waves of light poured from her and amongst the scouts, their injuries closing instantly. The men were amazed and some cried out in surprise. Whispers of ‘mage’ were heard, but not with accusation.

“You bring the Maker’s own light with you.” One scout acclaimed as he saw a large gash on his chest seal itself without even a scar.

“Make haste, noble squire, descend yon mountain forthwith. The trail doth appear unimpeded. Fair Leliana awaits thy tidings.” Eowyn directed and the scout saluted, his face a study of adoration. The scouts fled the area quickly and Eowyn motioned for her company to press on.

“Close by is the entrance to the tunnel that leads to the temple.” Cassandra provided as they climbed several ice-slick ladders.

“Pray, what manner of tunnel is this? A mine-shaft, perchance?” Eowyn quizzed idly.

“It is a mining complex, yes. These mountains are full of such paths.” Cassandra answered.

“Maybe more missing soldiers are in there somewhere.” Varric added.

“Along with whatever keeps them trapped.” Solas finished.

“We shall behold anon,” Eowyn replied quietly. They entered the aged and decrepit tunnel, and hiding in its ice covered walls were more demons. Eowyn and her crew dispatched them swiftly, and ventured further in.

“These dark passages dost appear to be yet in service.” Eowyn determined after spying boxes of materials and ropes that didn’t look as ancient as the tunnel itself. There was even a room with shelves filled with books and a desk littered with papers.

There were more enemies ahead and more dark rooms to explore. Eventually they came across a balcony of sorts. Red colored stones jutted out from the ruined walls and below another rift loomed with emerald light. One huge crimson stone broke through the center of the ground below.

“Lo, the Breach dost lie directly above us. This rift be linked unto it.” Eowyn cried, pointing upward. The dizzying cleave in the sky looked even more menacing up close.

“This rift is the key. If we close this one, the Breach should be sealed.” Solas gathered while gazing up at the vortex. Green light shone on his face, casting his grey eyes into a darker hue. The missing soldiers languished nearby, a few of them locked in combat with shades. The companions finished off the remaining enemies and moved closer to the Breach. Cassandra stopped to hear the soldier’s reports before rallying them to follow her.

Eowyn walked down the winding steps with her team, steering clear of the malevolent crimson stones along the path. Varric, she noticed, was becoming more anxious the more red stone they came across.

“What is red lyrium doing here?” He questioned in a tone Eowyn hadn’t heard him ever use. He sounded scared.

“I don’t know,” Cassandra answered seriously. Her sword and shield were bare and her countenance severe. Solas’ eyes flickered from one place to the next, his bald head glistened with sweat.

“Pray, what doth lie within the mystery of the scarlet lyrium?” Eowyn asked Varric, who seemed the most perturbed by the crimson stones.

“It’s evil. Don’t touch it!” Varric answered, giving the cursed lyrium a wide berth.

“PREPARE THE SACRIFICE” A voice suddenly thundered around them.

“What was that? Who is speaking?” Cassandra questioned desperately. Eowyn pondered why they were hearing such things in this place.

“Lo! 'Tis the shadow of which I spake afore. This surely be a remnant of yore.” Eowyn figured.

“A memory? The Fade is thin here, thin enough for us to hear memories of what transpired.” Solas deduced, his voice thick with academic fascination.

“PLEASE HELP ME!” A female voice cried out from the memory. Cassandra made a soft keening sound of despair.

“That was Divine Justinia’s voice!” she exclaimed, then spun to face Eowyn. “Just what are we hearing?”

As they got closer to the large rift, dim figures became clearer. A remnant of Divine Justinia could be seen tied in binds of magic, her face a rictus of terror. The man cloaked in shadow could be seen as well, along with a memory version of Eowyn. Her Sword of Night and Flame was in her hand.

“WE HAVE AN INTRUDER.” the shadow’s voice bellowed. It pointed a sharp finger toward memory-Eowyn. “KILL HER” it commanded.

“RELEASE HER FORTHWITH AND BEGONE” Memory-Eowyn ordered as she got into a battle stance.

“That’s your voice! Is this vision true? Just what are we seeing?” Cassandra cried, mesmerized by the vision.

“Verily, I would ne'er speak falsehood unto thee.” Eowyn promised softly, as she watched her memories unfold before them.

Soon the vision began to fade away and the company once again focused on the Breach.

“This one seems to be closed, albeit temporarily,” Solas supplied with a critical look toward the crystalized rift. “I believe that mark could open the rift, then seal it properly,” he hypothesized. Eowyn looked toward the quasi-closed breach.

“Perchance thou art correct. I shall endeavor to partake in this, yet I fear that fiends shall be drawn to such a venture.” She guessed, but lifted her marked hand nonetheless.

“That means demons are coming! Stand ready!” Cassandra shouted at the soldiers that lined the walls. They readied their weapons, drawing swords and nocking arrows.

Eowyn linked with the rift and her power blazed forth, causing it to open. Green smoke suffused the area, manifesting a towering giant of a demon. Silver scales covered its hide, and great horns reached upward on its head. It barred its sharp teeth and a haughty laugh escaped its mouth.

“What manner of fiend dost stand before me?” Eowyn wondered, willing the Coded Sword into her right hand. Her seal in her left cast Golden Vow across the battlefield, lifting the spirits and strengthening the resolve of the soldiers and her companions.

“It’s a Pride demon! Be wary!” Solas shouted even as his staff conjured bubble-like shields upon his company.

Eowyn flashed toward the Demon. It created a whip of azure lightning and spun it at her. The tarnished rolled away from the attack and slashed with her Coded Sword. The holy blade connected with the rigid scales and slid straight through. The demon screamed in outrage and whirled the whip of lightning again. Eowyn leapt backward out of harm’s way and prepared an incantation.

“Retreat henceforth, I beseech thee!” The tarnished commanded, her voice thundering against the crumbling walls. Solas, who was closest to the Pride demon, ran back up the steps after shooting Eowyn a quick look. Cassandra stepped backward behind Eowyn, her shield a barrier between her and the demon.

“What are you-” She started but then gasped. Eowyn jumped into the air and was inexplicably transformed into a massive dragon’s head. The symbolic head of Agheel roared and bellowed huge gusts of flame from its mouth that completely enveloped the Pride demon. Eowyn could hear the demon cry out in agony as it burned. The soldiers nearest the attack retreated in a panic, never once seeing such power before.

When the flames died out the Pride demon was lying on the ground in a smoking heap. The rift crackled as its hazy center became crystal.

“H-how could-” Solas started but then focused. “Disrupt the Breach, Eowyn! It harms them!” He called to her. Eowyn reached out her hand and released her green lightning toward the rift and pulled. The rift changed shape rapidly and green auras appeared around the battlefield. The Pride demon bellowed in pain again. Eowyn ran forward and cleaved at it with her Coded Sword. The essence of the demon began to falter and soon, after tandem attacks from the company, the Pride demon was vanquished. The rift became crystal once again.

“Seal it now!” Eowyn heard cries from all sides ringing in her ears and reached forth. The rift spun futilely before exploding in a shower of green sparks.

Eowyn looked up as a wave of energy raced toward the vortex above them. The Breach crackled and burst, the swirling clouds receding. The rift was still there, but smaller. Eowyn closed the Breach.

Soldiers and scouts cheered around her. Cassandra pressed close to Eowyn’s side, eyes searching for injuries. Finding none, the Seeker allowed herself a smile. They have triumphed.

Chapter Text

The journey back to the forward camp was a blur for Eowyn. She was accosted by her companions and soldiers alike, congratulating her prowess and their own survival. Most of the soldiers, like Eowyn, have never seen let alone fought a Pride demon before, though they have heard of them. Defeating such a mighty foe was cause for revelry, Eowyn supposed.

It seemed demons took the shape of certain strong emotions in this realm. Eowyn dully pondered on a demon that took the shape of madness. Would it look similar to her at all? Or maybe the Three Fingers?

The tarnished knight errant felt fatigued and her steps slowed as the company neared where they last saw Leliana and chancellor Roderick. Leliana was still there, talking amongst the scouts, though Eowyn spied soldiers picking up supplies and heading toward the large gate at the end of the bridge. They seemed to be relocating. Leliana saw Cassandra beside Eowyn and walked up to meet them.

“It seems you stopped the Breach, Eowyn, tarnished warrior.” Leliana stated quietly. Her lips were raised upwards, but her eyes were sharp. She addressed Cassandra next. “My men are moving back to Haven. You’ve all earned a rest. I’m surprised to see you still standing in truth.”

“The Breach is sealed, for now.” Cassandra relayed, then turned her eyes that burned with conviction to Eowyn. “The Maker provided us a champion in our darkest hour. Hail, the Herald of Andraste!” Cassandra shouted and gripped Eowyn’s left hand to raise it high.

“Hail!” The soldiers repeated as one boom. Leliana did not shout, but her smile never faltered even as her eyes became calculating. Eowyn was too tired to truly comprehend her new title or its implications. Her mind was unfocused and prone to maunder. She wondered yet again if sites of Grace lingered in this world. But then that would mean Marika’s might extended even into realms beyond the Lands Between. Eowyn found that hard to believe after defeating her champion Radagon in single combat earlier that day.

Realization hit Eowyn at that moment. She was no longer in the Lands Between. Not even a day ago Eowyn was fighting for her life against the Elden Beast, avatar of the Greater Will, and now she was here. This realm with its demons and suspicious clergy was not the world she knew. Yes, suspicious clergy and monsters were also prevalent in her realm, yet they seemed more visceral somehow. Less prone to parlay or even any conversation at all. Eowyn was never able to talk her way out of a fight in the Lands Between.

No, this realm was different. Its histories, territories and peoples are completely dissimilar. This area, the Frostback mountains she heard it called, doesn’t exist on any maps of the Lands Between she had seen. She could possibly be on another continent entirely, but that wouldn’t explain why no one knew of tarnished. Tarnished warriors, scholars and rogues from all over the world travelled to the Lands Between to brandish the Elden Ring. If this was the same realm, someone would know of such events.

No longer did Eowyn allow her displacement to bother her. After countless lifetimes in the Lands Between, this world was a welcome reprieve.

“Come Herald, we make for Haven.” Cassandra guided the tarnished, resting her slender yet calloused hand on Eowyn’s back as they walked.

-

Haven was revealed to be a snow covered village with soldiers training outside the walls, and tents littering almost all open space within. Small huts with thatched roofs dotted the encampment, nestled in between military outposts such as smithies and a quartermaster counting supplies. There was even a quaint tavern with barrels of ale lining the outside. Yet the largest building was a church the villagers labelled the Chantry.

Eowyn was ushered into one such hut. A small but inviting bed sat in the corner and Eowyn made a beeline for it. The servants that led her here were saying something, but Eowyn was already asleep.

-

Eowyn sat contented at a Site of Grace amongst grassy hills and tall evergreen trees. A Divine Tower loomed over the landscape nearby, and the Erdtree, unburned, stood colossal over all. Golden motes of light swayed in the wind, carrying a sweet aroma and a soft melody not unlike the song of lamentation sung by Chanting Winged Dames.

The song was what made Eowyn realize she was dreaming. She looked around and took in the familiar view of Eastern Liurnia. But it was different in small ways. Just slightly wrong.

When the tarnished looked back at the Grace, Melina’s face hovered closely in front of hers. Eowyn gasped but Melina didn’t move. Eowyn stared at her former Finger Maiden, loss burning a hole in her breast. The young looking woman was still in her traveling clothes, the hood of her cloak down baring her reddish hair.

“Did I not tell you I would seek you as far as you may travel, Tarnished?” Melina said in her soft, smoky voice. Eowyn’s eyes widened in shock and alarm. Melina’s left eye opened, revealing a menacing eye of gloam. She reached out for Eowyn’s neck and gripped tightly. Eowyn struggled for naught, unable to wrest Melina off her. Her gauntleted hands gripped Melina’s arm. Black spots burst in her vision.

“Melina! Unhand me!” Eowyn choked. “Melina!”

“To deliver unto you, Destined Death.” Eowyn spotted a curved dagger in Melina’s other hand, poised to strike her heart. With all her might the tarnished fought for control, but to no avail. When Melina moved to stab Eowyn’s breast, Eowyn cried out.

A wolf’s howl echoed through the plains, and Melina froze. Her grip slackened on Eowyn’s throat, granting her reprieve. Melina looked inexplicably afraid as she watched a great dark wolf lope into view. The wolf bared its teeth and growled in warning.

Melina released Eowyn and shot up, wary of the large wolf. Eowyn watched, mystified as the kindling maiden’s body seized and morphed. Her form contorted nightmarishly, and just as it settled into the shape of a Fear Demon, the dream changed.

-

Eowyn was lying on the ground near the Site of Grace north of Agheel Lake. The Waypoint ruins nearby were empty, and it was a clear night. The Erdtree cracked and burned in the twilight, sending ash and singed leaves across the wind. Eowyn dozed, gazing at the golden light of Grace through lidded eyes. Until a low voice called out.

“Greetings traveller, from beyond the fog.”

Eowyn’s eyes shot open and she rolled away from the Grace, her sharp eyes taking in Melina’s petite form as Melina’s one open eye surveyed Eowyn in turn. The maiden sat at the Grace, spreading her cloak as she did the first time they met.

Time passed slowly as the tarnished and kindling maiden paused, wondering if the other would suddenly change into some monster. Eventually Melina relaxed minutely, prompting Eowyn to do the same.

“Tarnished, where did you go?” Melina asked quietly after a moment. Eowyn said nothing, still wary of the woman across from her. “You spared me and burned the Erdtree in my stead, but the Elden throne stands empty.”

“I hath embarked upon a strange journey. I find myself in a realm anew, perchance ne'er to return.” Eowyn replied. Melina looked down, an aura of deep sorrow cloaking her.

“I see.” She said so quietly it was almost lost in the wind. The Erdtree made a loud, echoing crack as one of its massive burning branches broke apart and fell into the sea.

Suddenly, Eowyn was sitting down near the Site of Grace and Melina was closer than she had ever been in their travels. Her scarred hand crossed over Eowyn’s and she leaned her head on Eowyn’s shoulder. An intense heat burned on the tarnished where she touched.

“Come back to me, my tarnished. Return to my side.” Melina whispered, her voice filled with unbearable sadness and yen.

“I know not the way.” Eowyn whispered back, turning her blue eyes to Melina’s golden. “Thou didst forsake me first, my fairest heart.” Eowyn saw Melina’s golden eye flicker with contrition.

“I believed you to have gone mad.” Melina explained softly, but strong with emotion. “Your plan was beyond all reasoning. How could you use the Frenzied Flame? Why didn’t you harken my warnings?”

“Verily, 'twas the sole path to ensure thy safety. And I hath cast it away once the deed was done.” The tarnished answered, her tone unregretful. There was silence for a long moment before Melina sighed quietly.

“Thank you.” She whispered into the wind. Eowyn rested her forehead against Melina’s and wished for this dream never to end. They stared into each other's eyes for an eternity before Eowyn spoke again, this time in wonder.

“Art thou truly mine fair Melina?” Her hand rose to cup her maiden’s face. Melina leaned into the touch and closed her golden eye, content.

“We are linked forever, my Tarnished. Even if only in dreams.”

The two basked in each other’s presence until the dream faded away, forgotten by the waking tarnished. Neither of the women noticed the dark wolf crouched in the brush, its many eyes watching them.

-

When Eowyn awoke she half expected to be back in that damned graveyard in Limgrave, her dream mere vapors in her mind. When she saw the wooden beams above her head, heard voices muffled by a short distance and inhaled the smell of pine trees, a small smile stole her face. She was still in Haven, no longer bound by the cycle of the Elden Ring.

She sat up and realized she slept in her armor and that her Veteran gauntlets were still unaccounted for. Eowyn took off her helmet just as a long eared woman walked in carrying something in her arms. When she saw Eowyn awake she dropped her burden in surprise.

“I-I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” The woman begged. Eowyn tilted her head in confusion.

“Fear not, fair soul. Approach hither and impart unto me the cause of thine dread.” Eowyn proposed with a kind smile. The woman was struck frozen, her breathing quickening. Then she knelt on the ground, her head bowed and face hidden.

“I ask for your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.” She prayed, stealing a glance at Eowyn’s alarmed face. The tarnished dropped down beside the smaller woman and made to touch her before she flinched back.

“My dear, prithee, do not abase thyself before me.” Eowyn said softly, her right hand rose the woman’s face til they saw eye to eye. Eowyn could feel the woman’s rapid pulse building as a blush dominated her pale face.

“Pray, thou wouldst share with me the tidings of the hour?” Eowyn murmured, her kindest smile in place. She guided the woman to stand, but her touch lingered on the woman’s arm.

“They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing just like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about all day.” The servant woman told her in a shaky voice. Her eyes wouldn’t leave Eowyn’s yet were filled with a fervent devotion and quite a bit of fear.

“Thou hast mine gratitude. Pray, dost thou knoweth whither fair Cassandra hath wandered?” The tarnished asked next. The woman’s eyes widened and she made for the door.

“Lady Cassandra wanted to know when you woke up, at once! She’s in the Chantry with the lord Chancellor. ‘At once!’ She said!” The woman cried before running outside. Eowyn dropped her arm back to her side and huffed, disappointed by her first encounter with a servant.

Eowyn looked around the hut’s interior and quickly spotted her prized gauntlets on the table opposite the bed. Eowyn put them on and ventured out into Haven.

The tarnished champion was greeted by rows of soldiers and village folk lining up to see her. Every face turned to her as she left the hut, some with more interest than others. Whispers made a strange melody that followed her as she walked through the path.

“The Herald of Andraste”

“She closed the Breach”

“Her armor looks so beautiful”

“They say when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her”

Eowyn smiled at every face she locked eyes with as she passed by them toward the Chantry. If these people wanted to worship her as their god’s Herald, why stop them? Eowyn wondered who Andraste was, and if she was a goddess, where could she be found? The Tarnished made her way to the church.

“The Maker be with you” One woman in clergy robes demurred as she opened the Chantry doors for Eowyn. The tarnished pondered the Maker as well. Was the Maker another name for Andraste or another god entirely? Would Eowyn eventually need to vanquish these gods, as she did in her own realm?

“Mine thanks, fair lady.” Eowyn replied to the woman of the cloth, smiling. As she approached the farthest door in the back of the Chantry, she heard familiar voices. Eowyn paused in her stride and listened.

“The Herald will surely seal the Breach on her own time but she has nothing to do with selecting a new Divine or any other Chantry business!” Chancellor Roderick’s voice rang out.

“We cannot select a new Most Holy before we are even able to mourn Divine Justinia!” Leliana’s low yet piercing voice answered.

“The Breach is the main priority now.” Cassandra added, her thick accent muffled by the door.

“The Herald closed the Breach in front of our very eyes!” Chancellor Roderick shot back loudly.

“Why are you so quick to defend her, Chancellor?” Leliana pivoted. “After one conversation you have become such a staunch supporter.” It seemed to Eowyn that Leliana still harbored doubts of Eowyn’s truthfulness regarding blood magic and the chancellor.

“Well, that is to say, I am merely stating that the Breach is less of a worry now. Finding who is responsible as well as a new Most Holy should take precedence.” He replied, then cleared his throat nervously.

Eowyn heard enough. She opened the door and walked into the room. Leliana’s eyes narrowed but then she gave Eowyn a quick turn of her lips. In contrast, Chancellor Roderick’s whole face lit up before he mastered himself. Cassandra gave the tarnished a distracted nod. The Chancellor cleared his throat again and addressed Eowyn.

“Herald, you should know that some in the Chantry want you in chains on the next ship to Val Royeaux for trial. They still suspect you caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave.” He looked a bit contrite, like he didn’t agree but couldn’t do anything about it.

“That will not be happening.” Cassandra asserted and waved away the soldiers that guarded the door. They saluted her and retreated. Eowyn looked between the three people left in the room.

“I thank thee, fair Cassandra. I hath done what mine abilities allowed concerning the Breach.” Eowyn said with humble gratitude.

“Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect.” Leliana proclaimed, looking into Eowyn’s eyes. “Perhaps they died with the others, or have allies who yet live.”

“Verily, I remain perplexed as to the cause of yon explosion that didst occur from the start.” Eowyn wondered. “'tis surely that knave cloaked in shadow.”

“Who are you talking about, Herald?” Chancellor Roderick asked impatiently. “You did say you would give us ‘tidings’, I believe it was.” Eowyn opened her mouth to explain but Cassandra spoke over her.

“We saw parts of a vision in the ruins of the temple. The Divine called to her for help. A dark figure loomed over Most Holy.” Cassandra answered. Chancellor Roderick looked disbelieving at this.

“So your survival and that thing on your hand is all a coincidence?” The Chancellor sounded like he didn’t want to believe his own words.

“I believe it was providence. The Maker sent her to us when we needed it most.” Cassandra affirmed. Eowyn felt a surge of affection for the devout woman. It may not have been her Maker that sent Eowyn to this world, but the tarnished wanted to believe she was here for a reason.

“Whate'er the cause, I stand before thee now, and we must seal the Breach for all eternity and vanquish the cur who wrought this curse upon mine hand.” Eowyn uttered sternly, her words firm.

“The Chantry may not share your belief in the Herald, Seeker.” Chancellor Roderick countered.

“Then we will make them believe.” Cassandra shot back. She then walked to a table behind them and picked up a massive book. Engraved on the front was an eye with sunburst around it. “This is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. From this moment I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible and we will restore order. With or without their approval.”

“I will try to get them to see reason.” Chancellor Roderick assured. He glanced longingly at Eowyn before leaving the room.

“This is the Divine’s directive,” Leliana stated, tone deliberate. “Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos.” then she faltered, and added in a lower voice, “We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers and no real Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice. We must act now, with you at our side.” Cassandra replied, turning toward Eowyn.

“Pray, what dost thou mean by the Inquisition of old, I beseech thee?” Eowyn questioned, trepidation growing in her. This whole inquisition sounded like a holy war one of the demigods would wage. Eowyn did not want to be a tyrant causing harm to innocents under the guise of rooting out evil.

“It preceded the Chantry. People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad.” Leliana explained. Cassandra then took over.

“After, they formed the Templar Order, but the Templars have lost their way. We need those who can do what must be done united under a single banner once more.”

Eowyn felt like she was missing key information. The Inquisition appeared to be a military operation. Such a large undertaking is unneeded if the rifts were the only problem. Eowyn could close them all alone, she was sure. Why amass a whole army?

“Doth not the Breach encompass all that is amiss? Pray, why dost we require the Inquisition if 'tis but to seal it?” Eowyn pressed. Cassandra scoffed and shook her head. Even Leliana smiled a little in disbelief. This realm has become much more complicated for the tarnished, it seems.

“The Breach is just the latest catastrophe.” Cassandra complained, exhaustion and annoyance warring across her face. “The Mages of the Circle and the Templars are at war. The Conclave was made to bring them together for peace, but now it has made things much worse.”

“Most Holy created the Conclave for peace talks between the factions.” Leliana stepped up to explain. “With this explosion killing not only Most Holy but all of the leaders of both Mages and Templars, tempers have raged beyond control. The Hinterlands are rife with their skirmishes across the land, and the Chantry is in a panic without its leaders.”

So then, from what Eowyn understood, the Breach was just an effect, and the cause was this war between Templars and Mages. But that didn’t explain the man cloaked in shadow and his ritual in the Fade.

“Verily, dost thou seek to gather thine host for this great conflict 'twixt the Mages and the Templars?” Eowyn queried, a thoughtful look on her face. She held her chin with one hand and her elbow with the other in a gesture of reflection.

“That and many other reasons besides.” Leliana confirmed.

“Then shall I lend thee mine aid. The shadowed knave must be defeated and the Breach sealed posthaste. Should we require more allies, lead me unto them forthwith.” Eowyn pledged after some thought. She never possessed this many allies at once before. The tarnished felt a little out of her depth concerning the religious and political issues she was facing, but it appeared she wouldn’t have to handle it alone.

Cassandra held out her hand and Eowyn shook it firmly. Eowyn, the Herald of Andraste, agreed to aid the forming of the fledgling Inquisition.

Chapter Text

Haven was buzzing with activity and purpose. Soldiers and scouts scrambled around the village, smiths worked their wares and new recruits trained steadfastly. Eowyn stood at the entrance to the Chantry as a man nailed a writ on its door and watched with fascination as the encampment filled with life.

These people were real, thinking beings with emotions and goals. They weren’t the husks of soldiers and nobles that wandered the Lands Between, unable to do anything but attack and scuttle about aimlessly. Nor were they like the haughty demigods who were bound to the cycle and lost their autonomy centuries ago. Haven was much more animated than the Roundtable Hold, sanctuary of tarnished. Suspicion and hostility reigned at the Table of Lost Grace, helmed by Gideon Ofnir, hoarder of secrets. The tarnished there were too fearful or too radical to unite for any one cause.

Lady Ranni and her followers couldn’t match life of this caliber either. With her existence a secret, Ranni didn’t have near the amount of adherents as the Inquisition, and they worked alone more often than not. Even Blaidd the Half-Wolf kept Eowyn at arm’s length most of the time she had known him. He only truly trusted her near the end of his own journey.

Eowyn felt a pang of loss for Blaidd. He didn’t deserve his end. A jolt of longing shot through Eowyn as she thought of Lady Ranni and her Shadow. The tarnished smothered it ruthlessly. Her service to Ranni was over. She doubted the azure demigod could travel here to Thedas, whether or not she would even want to. Eowyn couldn’t see the Lunar Princess desiring to do anything outside her original plans. Pining for the affection of an uncaring goddess was futile.

Eowyn spared a thought for Melina, her wayward finger maiden. Something gnawed at the back of her mind at the thought of her, but was lost. Eowyn just hoped Melina would find a new purpose, one that doesn’t involve burning herself asunder for a world she wouldn’t even see come to pass. Maybe her purpose could involve those births she said still occurred across the lands, since she seemed to care about them more than her own life.

Eowyn shook the regretful thoughts from her head, causing her long, braided white hair to swing about. She wanted to be present at this moment. Haven had answers to the many questions she had about this world and the people in it. The tarnished set off to find them.

Cassandra and Leliana wanted to meet with her in the Chantry later on, but advised Eowyn to speak with many different people in Haven. Leliana even gave her a small leatherbound journal to keep up with events and important names. The tarnished wandered the village, watching different people run back and forth before spying a familiar face. Varric Tethras was standing by a bonfire with his hands spread out, as close to the flames he could be without being burned. Eowyn made her way toward him.

“Hail Varric!” Eowyn called out to the short man. He looked up and gave her an easy grin.

“Tarnished! I wondered when you’d wake up.” He greeted her before his grin faded into a frown. “So, now that Cassandra is out of earshot, how are you really holding up? Going from being Thedas’ Most Wanted to joining a religious military is a lot to spread over one day. Anyone else in your shoes wouldn’t shake that off so easily.”

“Verily, mine mind doth swirl in great perplexity regarding nearly all matters. Lo, 'tis a heavy burden to bear.” Eowyn answered, dejected.

“Then you’re in good company.” he grunted. “We’ve been staring at the Breach watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ is selling it short. Thousands of people died up there. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky.”

The mark on Eowyn’s hand crackled with green light in answer, as if it were eavesdropping on them.

“Dost thou yearn for the freedom to depart?” Eowyn asked, hiding her trepidation.

“Cassandra already said I’m free to go. I’d like to think I’m selfish, but even I can’t walk away and let that sort itself out.”

“I am most joyful thou shalt remain. Thy presence beside me doth please my heart.” Eowyn said softly, her eyes tender. Varric gave her a roguish grin.

“For better or worse, Bianca and I are here to stay, at least for now.” He answered with a glance at his crossbow that sat beside a log near the fire. “As for you, I’ve written enough tragedies to know how this one goes. Are you sure you want to stick around? I know with the whole 'being from another world' thing your options are limited, but Heroes are everywhere. That hole in the sky? We need more than just a hero, we need a miracle.”

“I am well acquainted with miracles.” Eowyn said quietly, but then changed the subject.

“When first our paths did cross, thou declared thyself a bard of tales. Pray, what wondrous fables dost thou possess?” Eowyn probed, her face open. Varric chuckled.

“Please call my stories ‘wondrous fables’ in front of the Seeker. I want to see her reaction.” He joked. “I wrote a few books, but I’m no Bard. For one thing I can’t sing to save my life.”

“Verily, I wouldst fain peruse one of thy tales anon.” Eowyn stated truthfully, but Varric looked puzzled for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll need to read up on my older Trade to know what ‘fain’ means, but sure, Tarnished. I can get you a copy of ‘Tale of the Champion’ whenever, though it might have a knife shaped hole in the center.” He quipped with a nod.

Varric turned away back to the fire and Eowyn left to wander about Haven once more.

Eowyn’s conversation with Varric reminded her to seek out Solas. The Herald walked past the tavern and peeked inside. She didn’t see Solas in the tavern, but the music the bard played was sweet on her ears. Eowyn stood entranced near the entrance of the pub listening to the song about an Empress of fire. When the song ended Eowyn applauded, smiling widely at the Bard, then turned to see Solas right behind her.

“Hail Solas! I hath been in quest of thee.” Eowyn greeted the tall, long eared man.

“I should be honored. The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.” Solas replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“I am but a knight who hath sworn an oath to seal the Breach, and I shall complete the task anon.” She answered stoutly.

“Nobly spoken, indeed.” Solas commented, a glint in his eye.

“My thanks, O mage.” Eowyn replied with a nod. “Prithee, forgive mine intrusion. Dost thou find this an ill time for discourse?” Eowyn asked carefully. Solas smiled slightly.

“No, now is as good a time as any other.” Solas answered and then walked a bit up the path away from the tavern. After a moment Solas spoke unbidden. “I have journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched countless hosts of spirits clash, reenacting battles both renowned and forgotten. Heroes rise up in every Great war. What kind of hero would you say you are, Eowyn?”

“Hast thou ventured into the Realm of the Fade? For truth?” Eowyn wondered instead, ignoring his question.

“Spirits in the Fade are attracted to deadly conflicts and buildings that stood the tests of time. They press close against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. I can travel far into the Fade by dreaming in these places, seeing memories no other living being has ever seen.” Solas sounded melancholy, his eyes cast downward.

“Thou art a Dream Walker, verily! I am one as well.” Eowyn revealed. Solas’ head tilted in question, interest alit in his eyes.

“You have travelled through dreams in the Fade?” Solas asked.

“Of the Fade, I know not. Yet, within the ethereal slumber of a once-familiar soul have I dwelt. To break free, I was compelled to slay a fearsome dragon of great renown.” Eowyn explained, remembering Fia, the Deathbed Companion and her dark fate. Eowyn’s face broke in sorrow unbidden and the Mending Rune of Death drummed in her chest. Solas watched her quietly, more questions growing within him at the revelation and the turmoil it caused.

“You have made me curious. It will be interesting to watch this fledgling Inquisition make its way with you at the helm. I will stay to see it though. For now.” Solas decided.

“Dost thou intend to take thy leave?” Eowyn asked, wondering if any of her new companions actually wanted to be here.

“I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion. You are new to this world, but you must understand my position. Cassandra has been accommodating, however I am still cautious.” He explained. Eowyn fought the alarm growing within her.

“Thou art a valiant and steadfast comrade. I dost wish to have thee at mine side in the days that lie ahead.” Eowyn told Solas fervently. Solas blinked in surprise, but seemed pleased.

“Your words hearten me, Herald.”

“Prithee, call me Eowyn, Solas. To serve as a Herald to a deity I hath ne'er encountered, 'tis an oddity most perplexing.”

“I will keep that in mind, Eowyn.”

“Pray, I wish to learn more of the Twilight Realm known as the Fade.” Eowyn said.

Solas nodded once, a real smile spreading across his clean face. “The Fade is the world of spirits and dreams. A reflection of the living world, influenced by the Veil and the thoughts of living beings, particularly spirits. It is a place of guidance and insight, but it is also distorted and easily corrupted by the emotions and desires of people.”

“Thus, when I do slumber, dost thou reckon I traverse the Fade?” Eowyn questioned. This line of conversation nagged at Eowyn’s mind strangely. She had a distinct feeling that she had experienced the Fade beyond the moment she received the mark on her hand.

“It is possible. Theoretically, anyone having a particularly unpleasant dream or one provoking other strong emotions could enter the Fade. When the Veil is thin enough, such as in areas that have seen death or where many people have gathered, I can dream and enter the Fade with just a thought.” The mage answered seriously.

“Dost thou commune with spirits in that realm?” Eowyn asked.

“Yes. Some benevolent spirits are among my closest friends. Spirits of Wisdom are always happy to share ancient knowledge. Spirits of Purpose help me search for things. They celebrate my joys and comfort me in grief.” Solas answered with a wistful look into the distance.

“Aye, some amongst mine companions be spirits of yore. I dost ponder if I may beckon them hither to this realm.” Eowyn sighed, thinking of her dear Melina and the loyal spectral steed Torrent. The tarnished wondered if the Spectral Steed Whistle would work in this realm. Torrent would be invaluable when traversing the land.

Thinking of her spirit companions finally made the itching thought click into place. Her dream while she slept was of Melina, but then the finger maiden became a nightmarish monster. And a wolf was there, Eowyn believed. It brought up a subject Eowyn wanted to explore.

“Solas, is there a means to defend mine dreams from fiends in the Fade?” Eowyn asked next.

Solas nodded, keeping his small smile. “Of course. I put up wards when I choose to sleep in places that could be dangerous, such as abandoned ruins. We will have to see if you have the ability to learn such magic.” he granted. “Now I have a question for you.”

Eowyn smiled knowingly. “What dost thou wish to inquire of me?”

Solas lowered his voice. “Where does your magic come from and how did you learn such spells?”

“I conjure magic by channeling mine essence into the guise of an incantation employing a sigil or scepter, as thou dost.” She answered blankly. Solas’s face grew from guarded curiosity to disquiet.

“That is not how magic works in this world. Magic comes from the Fade. Mages draw on that power, and use it to shape reality or call things into being. Drawing on that power also gains you the attention of spirits, some of them aggressive and hostile. Mages are beacons for demonic possession and must be vigilant at all times. For you to have access to magic without a connection to the Fade is unheard of.” Solas’ head tilted and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Verily, I toiled with great fervor to command mine enchantments. Magic be not a gift of birthright in the Lands Between.” Eowyn said seriously.

Solas’ eyebrows rose and he leaned forward with another question. “Very well. How did you traverse from the Lands Between to Thedas?”

“I wot not, same as thee. In but a moment I found myself present, yet in the next, I was plummeting from lofty heights above. I fell into the Fade, and thou knowest the tale that doth follow.” Eowyn answered. Solas’ lips pursed in disbelief.

“That is… anticlimactic. Well, Eowyn, you must be busy so I will no longer keep you. Goodbye” Solas turned away and Eowyn was left to find the other people she was sent to talk to.

She consulted the map in her journal and saw that she was close to the Apothecary, so she went to meet this ‘Adan’. The inquisition had but one person making potions for their whole operation. Eowyn knew the man would be either impatient, harried, or both.

She was right. Adan was a grumpy old man that apparently was called to help Solas keep her alive and the mark stable when she first arrived in this world. He complained that since she woke up so quickly, they were wasting his time. Eowyn thanked the man nonetheless and asked for information about the potions people consumed in this world. Adan ran out of patience with her manner of speech and walked her out of the Apothecary swiftly thereafter.

Eowyn then went to see the Blacksmith Harritt. The mustachioed man was easy going enough, and told Eowyn of different methods used to make and upgrade weapons and armor. Eowyn listened politely, but knew she wouldn’t need his services for herself. Her weapons were fashioned to kill a god by the Misbegotten Blacksmith Hewg ages ago, and her Veteran armor was finer than any she’d seen in the realm thus far.

After seeing to them, Eowyn went back to her hut to check her things. It felt to her that since she arrived in this strange realm, she had no chance to look through her items and see what made the journey with her and what did not.

She found her Flasks of Crimson Tears and Cerulean Tears dry and empty.The Flask of Wondrous Physick carried the Twiggy Cracked Tear and the Opaline Bubbletear, for what good that did, being completely empty as well. With no Site of Grace in this world, her Flasks will likely remain empty forever.

Her Spectral Steed Whistle was on her finger, though she couldn’t use it at that moment. Torrent would loath to appear in the middle of this small hut.

All of her many cracked pots, arrows and bolts were in their place along with the cured meats and her other consumables.

The Great Runes of the Elden Ring she had taken from the Demigods were present and at full potential. Eowyn need not crush a Rune Arc to beckon their power. The tarnished warrior focused on each Great Rune, concentrating on their aspects and how they influence her body and the world around her. Her body, mind and soul felt instantly revitalized and her hands itched to hold an armament to test her fighting prowess.

Eowyn then willed the small doll that resembled Ranni the Witch into her hand. The doll appeared, cold and lifeless, on her palm. The tarnished pushed her life force into the doll, willing it to link with the demigod it was fashioned after. There was a long pause.

“Lady Ranni,” Eowyn whispered to the doll. There was no answer.

The tarnished cursed. Communication with the Carian Princess would be favorable, but ultimately not necessary.

Many more items were accounted for, but useless at present. Larval Tears, Keys, and the dragon hearts she had harvested had no use in Thedas.

Eowyn checked all her talisman pouches next, knowing she would have to wear certain ones that help her focus her innate power if she had no Cerulean Tears left. She took off the Talismans she was currently wearing and slipped on the Blessed Blue Dew Talisman. Eowyn quickly felt her capacity for spells increase bit by bit. She also put on the Assassin’s Cerulean Dagger and the Ancestral Spirit’s Horn. Then the Two Headed Turtle Talisman was added as well, so Eowyn could catch her breath much quicker.

The tarnished decided to use less demanding incantations in the future in order to conserve her capacity. With these talismans and sleep being her only way of regaining her strength, Eowyn knew she must moderate her magic in this world.

It ranckled the tarnished to know that her countless runes she collected to grant herself strength were unable to be cultivated here. Yet another unfortunate change for the realm-crosser. The demons she vanquished before didn’t give her any runes after they perished either, so it seemed she was the only carrier of rune shards in this entire world.

Eowyn then took out her Spirit Calling Bell. Eowyn was wary of summoning her Spirit Ash companions near other people, but she was alone now in this hut. She willed the Ashes of her Mimic Tear forth, and rang the Bell once.

The Bell peeled louder than expected, but no one came through the door to check on what caused the sound. Eowyn felt her life force divide and fuse with the silver blob that appeared in front of her. The blob spread out and shifted, becoming a mirror image of Eowyn wearing Veteran Armor sans the helmet, and smiling blankly.

“Verily, 'tis a pleasure to behold thee once more, my silver twin.” She murmured, standing close to her Mimic. The Mimic reflected her action and they both brought their hands up to cup the other’s face. “I wish to retain thee in this realm, yet it would prove most arduous to render mine explanation to my comrades. The folk herein possess scarce understanding of phantoms.” Her silver clone smiled at her, uncaring.

Eowyn jumped backward and willed the Hand of Malenia into her grip. Her Mimic did the same. Satisfied, Eowyn banished the Mimic Tear and sat on her bed. She sighed, feeling melancholic suddenly.

“I dost yearn for fair Melina's presence here.” She whispered to herself. Longing filled the tarnished to her core. Throughout her journeys in the Lands Between her constant companion was Melina, and her absence here gnawed at Eowyn’s resolve. If only her kindling maiden was able to explain this world to her like she did the Lands Between. Eowyn yenned for Melina’s dusky voice, her smoky golden eye that watched Eowyn’s every move, her scorching touch.

Eowyn sighed again. Pining for her fair maiden led to naught. The tarnished had duties in this world now, and she did not have the time to sigh in her room like some damsel. She left the hut and headed to the Chantry to meet ‘The Commander’ and ‘The Ambassador’ that Cassandra mentioned. She knew this talk, unlike her initial meetings with Varric and Solas, would be a productive one for her and the Inquisition as a whole.

Chapter Text

The Tarnished saw Cassandra waiting at the door to the Chantry. The Seeker looked at Eowyn’s left hand as they walked toward the back room side by side.

“Does it trouble you?” Cassandra asked. Eowyn lifted her gauntleted left hand. The mark was hidden, but it made such little bother that Eowyn almost forgotten it.

“It ne'er did.” She answered honestly.

“It is stable, as is the Breach. You’ve bought us time. And Solas believes that if the mark has more power, as much as it took to open the Breach, that it could succeed in closing it for good. That much power is hard to come by.” Cassandra explained, her expression severe.

“I didst feel the mark wax in power with each rift I sealed in yon mountains. Perchance, should I seal more of them, the might of the mark shall suffice.” Eowyn hypothesized. She looked at her left hand again, missing Cassandra’s surprised face.

“We shall see.” The Seeker said, then opened the last door at the end of Haven’s Chantry. When Eowyn walked in with Cassandra she looked at the three other people occupying the room. Cassandra walked toward the tall man wearing furs across the shoulders of his intricate armor. He looked Eowyn in the eyes, his gaze stern and evaluating.

“May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra introduced the man, who grimaced.

“Such as they are.We lost many soldiers in the valley, though I heard of your healing some of my men in the mountains. You have my thanks for that.” He said, nodding in gratitude.

Eowyn smiled politely. “t’was mine honour.” she replied.

Cassandra then indicated the beautiful, darker skinned woman in a blue and gold outfit with puffy shoulders. “This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

“A pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard much about you.” Josephine said with a smile.

“Ere long, we shall discern truth from mere whisperings..” Eowyn responded, mirroring the Ambassador’s smile, her eyes smoldering.

“And you know of sister Leliana. She is our Spymaster” Cassandra said, turning Eowyn’s attention away from Josephine and toward the hooded woman. Leliana’s eyes glinted from under the veil.

“Such a tactful introduction, thank you Cassandra.” She said flatly. She fixed Eowyn with a look of caution.

“Before we get into closing the Breach and other matters, I need to know something.” Leliana stated quietly.

Eowyn made her face open, gazing at the Spymaster. “What dost thou seek to know?”

“Who are you, Eowyn? You called yourself ‘Tarnished’. What does that mean? And what did you do in the Lands Between before coming here?” Leliana interrogated softly, her accent belying the seriousness of her queries. Her stance shifted slightly, as if asking such things would cause Eowyn to attack.

The tarnished kept her expression forthright. There was no point in lying to anyone in this world, and besides, Eowyn liked these people already. This realm has had many problems regarding mysterious strangers wreaking devastation so Eowyn understood their misgivings with her presence. Even still, none in the village attacked her on sight. Better still, most revere her as a deific being or at least someone deserving respect.

These leaders in front of her let her stay nearby, asleep, without ambush or thievery. They must trust her to an extent, and she could deign to trust them until such betrayal occurs. Eowyn prepared her answers for Leliana, unaware of the paradigm shift that would occur thereafter.

“To be deemed Tarnished is to be summoned by Grace to quest for the Elden Ring.” Eowyn could see each of their eyes light in interest at the mention of the Elden Ring. For whose eyes wouldn’t beam with fascination in knowing such a supremely powerful concept exists?

“What do you mean ‘quest for the Elden Ring’? What is that, like an artifact?” Josephine butted in to ask. It was such an innocent question that Eowyn fought back a snort at the naivety.

“Verily, 'tis the fount of mine dominion, and the Decrees and Tenets of the Lands Between. To unveil the Elden Ring in this hallowed place would be akin to summoning the Sun or the Moon.” She told them seriously. At that, the Commander started backward, hand grasping the pommel of his weapon. Eowyn heard Cassandra gasp next to her.

“The Elden Ring is that powerful?” Cassandra asked in shock. Eowyn turned to her.

“Yet more powerful, in truth.” She replied solemnly.

Eowyn worried for her home, the realm without the Elden Ring dictating its fundamental Laws and Principles may fall into chaos or unravel entirely. A spike of anxiety bored into Eowyn at the thought.

“What do you mean ‘Summoned by Grace’?” Leliana then questioned, breaking Eowyn out of her spiral of thought.

“The Grace o' the Erdtree summoned the Tarnished home from banishment to the Lands Between.” Eowyn told her from memory. Melina told her this tale one time as they sat quietly in a ruined church.

The tarnished remembered the Tale of the Shattering effortlessly, as she was drawn to Melina’s smoky voice and gentle cadence, and the kindling maiden had an acute interest in calling her Mother’s words to present. There were nights spent in the wilderness where the tarnished would ask Melina idle questions about Queen Marika, the march of her armies, or just anything she could recall.

Melina would sometimes be brusque and unwilling to divulge, disappearing into motes of light and leaving the tarnished alone to curse herself. Then there were other nights where Melina would stay and speak quietly about ancient battles, and the triumphs or bitter failures of a long lost people. Nights when the Tarnished could gaze into the golden eye of her maiden and see visions of the past play in her head perfectly, as if Melina was directly imparting the memories to her through eye contact alone. Those nights were among Eowyn’s most cherished times in the Lands Between.

“You were banished?” Josephine prodded curiously.

“Mayhap I shall commence from the beginning of this tale.” Eowyn suggested. Leliana nodded once and stepped back, as if to give Eowyn the floor to speak. Cullen looked cautious but intrigued. Eowyn was of a mind that the Commander knew what he must of battles and strategy, with little else of interest to him. Josephine’s expression blossomed into honest fascination at Eowyn’s proposal and the Tarnished’s mind stuttered at the breathtaking sight. Leliana’s face was impassive, but a flicker of interest danced behind her hooded eyes.

“Very well. The tale of the Elden Ring begins with the Erdtree,” Eowyn began.

The tarnished then swept the Inquisition’s leaders into her world of goddesses, demigods and massive, Holy, overgrown trees. She told them of the Shattering, of the exile of the first Tarnished and the betrayal of Radagon. She revealed the true tale of the Night of the Black Knives and what became of that fateful deed. She told them the truth of being Empyrean, and the Outer Gods. It may have been hours they sat there listening and asking questions, yet none would know.

Then, when the history of the Lands Between was known, Eowyn narrated her own tale. “In that hour, I didst awake in a realm aptly known as Limgrave, and forthwith encountered the fair maiden, Melina.” Eowyn couldn’t help the wistful smile that bloomed on her face when remembering the first time she met the kindling maiden. Even the many times they ‘first met’ thereafter did nothing to diminish the joy and deep sorrow that filled Eowyn when Melina appeared in a shimmer of lights, their time together and friendship once again lost.

“Fair Melina hath bestowed upon me the might to draw strength from runes, and thereafter, I embarked upon my quest to vanquish the Shardbearers and seize their Great Runes.”

Cullen interrupted at that point, unable to fathom what Eowyn just said so casually. “Wait, so these godlike beings that took the pieces of the broken Elden Ring are Shardbearers, correct?” He asked, clearly leading to something else. Eowyn nodded, confirming the other title the demigods held. “Then, you’re saying you killed these people?”

Eowyn scoffed, disbelieving that anyone would call a company Rykard and Mohg was a part of ‘people’, or that they didn’t fully deserve death. “To refer to them as 'people' doth lend them a semblance of humanity. Yet the Shardbearers were naught but demigods, monstrous in their wickedness.” She answered, unwilling to humanize the demigods beyond their ability to die.

“I understand the need to put down monsters, that’s not what I was getting at.” Cullen backtracked. “What I mean is, you personally, defeated each Shardbearer?” Eowyn realized by the Commander’s question that he was impressed, or better yet, comprehending just how much power Eowyn carried.

“Just so.” Eowyn confirmed. It was silent for a moment as her company digested that revelation.

“Then why were you unable to close the Breach completely?” Cassandra asked. Her awe had swiftly transformed to vexation, which may then devolve into rage if left unattended.

“Verily, this mark is fresh. I have not wielded its might with great frequency, nor have I yet invoked the power of the Elden Ring within its bounds.” Eowyn answered, her tone placating.

“If you were able to, indeed, invoke the power of the Elden Ring into the mark, it would make things easier for the Inquisition.” Leliana said, her tone thoughtful. It seemed being told the woman in front of you was a god-killing Empyrean wasn’t enough to make the Spymaster flinch.

“Attempting an alliance with the rebel mages or the Templars would be less of a priority,” Josephine added.

“Making that mark any more powerful than it already is can be unpredictable, and dangerous.” Cullen warned. Eowyn was of a different mind, however.

“Nay, Commander. This, Anchor, doth already began to entwine with mine own might.” Eowyn said, holding her marked hand in front of her eyes. It was much like an anchor to her, holding her here like a drifting ship. Tying her to a realm and a people both hostile and worshipful of her. Eowyn heard Josephine whisper ‘the Anchor’ to herself and look thoughtfully at her hand.

“Then what do you still need to seal the Breach?” Leliana asked.

“I mayhap need to seal some of the lesser rifts. I draw strength from their sealing.” The tarnished was sure after closing a few more rifts, her power would be enough to seal the Breach. Then after, they could turn their sights on the evil shadow that caused such suffering in the first place.

“In that case, we are getting reports that rifts are open throughout the Hinterlands. Refugees and pilgrims are being attacked by demons on their way coming here, along with bandits taking advantage of the chaos.” Leliana provided calmly, looking into a small notebook in her hand.

“You could close the rifts closest to Haven, to gauge the strength you would need to close the Breach.” Cullen suggested.

“This doesn’t help our plight with the Chantry,” Josephine commented, making Leliana grimace and Cullen glare at the decorated wall nearest him.

“What grievances doth the Chantry hold against us? Chancellor Roderick doth lend his noble support to mine cause.” It hasn’t been long enough for the Chancellor to get all of the Chantry to fall in line, but he must have made some headway.

“Chancellor Roderick supports you, of course. The Inquisition, not so much. And now some circles are calling for his demotion.” Josephine explained. Eowyn felt a pit of guilt stir in her stomach. She didn’t use any deception to gain the Chancellor’s support, but she still felt responsible for getting him in hot water with the Chantry. “The Chantry has officially denounced the Inquisition, and you specifically.” She disclosed quietly.

“Pray tell, why do they hold such enmity towards me?” Eowyn asked curiously. This ‘Chantry’ was not even based here, and their only representative cast his lot with her, so why would they censure her?

“Some are calling you ‘The Herald of Andraste’ and that frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics are calling it Blasphemy and us heretics for having you here.” Josephine answered. Eowyn’s eyes went skyward in annoyance. That moniker was not her doing. She would rather they call her something that had nothing to do with their gods. Eowyn thought maybe she fancied her title of ‘Elden Lord’ too much to accept any other.

“Pray tell, who hath bestowed such a title? How might I serve as Herald to a deity I hath ne'er encountered?” Eowyn complained, her cheeks a bit pink. She would say it was in anger but she knew her face was blushing in embarrassment. She looked at all of them in turn, noting that Josephine and Cassandra wouldn’t hold her gaze. Eowyn spun to face the Seeker, pointing at her suddenly chagrined face.

“Verily, 'twas thee, Seeker! I recall it but dimly.” Eowyn exclaimed. Cassandra went red in the face and Leliana suddenly turned away from them with shaking shoulders.

“How else could we explain you appearing before us when we needed it!” She countered loudly in her defense, aggressively slamming her hand down on the table. “ And then the reports of seeing a woman bathed in light behind you,” Cassandra’s voice wavered at the end, her accent thick with unnamed emotion.

“I dost question whether tis truly Andraste.” Eowyn replied, unconvinced. But then she placed her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder, the woman’s eyes snapping to hers. “It matters not. Though I be not the divinity thou didst seek, I am verily the one who hath responded.”

Cassandra looked troubled by that response, and Eowyn lifted her hand. She turned back to the other leaders. “Though I loath to decree my triumphs to another god, I dost take no offense in being hailed as the Herald of Andraste.”

“Well, the Chantry does.” Cullen replied.

“Ought they not to be more vexed by the Breach?” Eowyn tried. Just how much of a problem will this Chantry become?

“They are ah, vexed by the Breach.” Cullen replied. “They just don't think you can do anything about it.”

“They are also telling people you’ll make it worse.” Josephine provided.

Eowyn sighed. That was a thought she had as well, though she wouldn’t voice it here. The Lands Between was filled with curses and rituals that could destroy the realm or close to it, if left to fester. The Dungeater’s curse and Malenia’s Scarlet Rot come to mind. This Anchor felt like one of those curses to Eowyn. Like a key to a doorway she didn’t wish to open.

“There is something you can do to help bring those in the Chantry to our cause.” Leliana supplied and pulled out a piece of paper adorned with a portrait of an older woman wearing one of those ghastly hats of clergy. “Mother Giselle, a chantry cleric, asked to speak with you. She’s tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe. She knows those involved more than I and her support could prove invaluable.”

“Conversing with her may procure her favor, and I shall lend mine aid to mend the afflicted.” Eowyn declared, face set. The others in the room smiled, knowing of Eowyn’s selfless inclination to heal anyone wounded near her.

“Look for opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence while you’re there.” Cullen suggested.

“Ah yes, we need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley. I believe you’re the one best suited to recruit them, my Lord Herald.” Josephine added. Eowyn shook her head in denial at this new title.

“Prithee, fair Josephine, henceforth address me as Eowyn.” She corrected with a sweet smile. Josephine giggled a bit but didn’t respond.

At that, the leaders began to plan with Eowyn over the War Table before them. Eowyn strategized, planned, wrote personal missives and just chatted with the Leaders of the Inquisition until everything was settled. Josephine let Eowyn know she would personally tutor Eowyn in what she needed to know about Thedas in order to not seem so otherworldly. Eowyn was grateful beyond words.

Eowyn was to prepare for travel to the Hinterlands within the next day or so, and she moved away from the War Table to leave. Cassandra followed her out the door.

“Herald, ah, Eowyn wait.” She called. Eowyn stopped and turned to the dark haired woman. Cassandra looked contrite, but her eyes were forward, gazing at Eowyn fearlessly.

“Fair Cassandra, prithee, what dost thou seek?” Eowyn asked, smiling plainly.

“I wish to apologize to you.” Cassandra began. Eowyn tilted her head in confusion. What purpose did Cassandra have to apologize? The Seeker sighed, then continued. “After you closed the Breach, we were tired, wounded but victorious. I thought you were sent by the Maker. I told everyone you were the Herald of the Maker’s bride Andraste, but now I see that I was wrong. You are something, someone, completely different. I wish to respect that.”

Eowyn locked eyes with Cassandra, searching deep. The Seeker held her gaze, her back straight and shoulders set. Her cheeks were dusted with red, but she seemed determined to look repentant. The tarnished then smiled brightly, her search complete. Cassandra was a solid woman, her values unyielding. She was blunt and abrasive, but her motives were good.

“I forgive thee, fair Cassandra. Let us cast aside this matter henceforth. I desire thee to stand by my side in the coming days.” Eowyn proclaimed, grasping Cassandra’s shoulder again. She nodded resolutely at the Seeker, then bade her farewell.

Cassandra stood at the door of the Chantry watching Eowyn walk away. This woman, who has only been in Thedas for two days, has already shown such character. The Seeker found it difficult to believe her to be some deity from another world, but she knew at least that Eowyn was a good person.

Chapter Text

When Eowyn was ready to travel to the Hinterlands she was delighted to see Solas and Varric accompany Cassandra and herself at the edge of Haven. Eowyn was once again wearing her Veteran Armor set, though her greaves were from a Banished Knight. She had no need for a pack, unlike her party who were carrying large supply bags across their backs.

The Spectral Steed Whistle was a band of fire on Eowyn’s finger as they traveled down the valley toward the Hinterlands. They needed to procure horses for the Inquisition, else Eowyn would leave her company far behind on Torrent. Yet as they walked slowly down the slushy mountainlands into the hilly forest below, the Tarnished grew irritated that she could not leap atop her spirit steed and race down the snow capped terrain. She was mollified slightly by her discovery of Elfroot, the curative plant found in plenty along their path. Eowyn harvested every plant she saw, and the time spent traveling wiled away quickly.

As they reached the Hinterlands, Cassandra led the company toward a small camp set up by the vanguard. They were approached by a small, freckled young woman wearing the light coverings Eowyn noticed the Inquisition scouts wore. Eowyn noticed she was a dwarf like Varric, and she shared the similar handsome yet hardy features as Eowyn’s rogue companion.

“Hail, fair scout.” Eowyn greeted the dwarven woman with a bright smile that stopped the scout in her tracks. “Prithee, dost thou harken the tidings of this land?”

The scout froze and stuttered, gaping at Eowyn for a moment before blinking rapidly and shaking her head. Then she looked up at Eowyn slowly. “You must be the Herald of Andraste. I’ve heard the stories, but honestly, they don’t do you justice, my Lady. Thank you for what you did at the Breach.” The scout rambled, then caught herself again and made a salute. Eowyn dipped her head in acknowledgement, smiling still.

“Inquisition Scout Lace Harding, at your service.” Scout Harding stated, her voice slightly deeper as she gained a more professional air.

The scout told them of the horsemaster, and the mage and templar war waging closer to his domain. The scouts also observed the fighting getting closer to where Mother Giselle stayed, aiding refugees. Scout Harding had an urgency in her voice that spurred Eowyn to hurry along the path leading to the cleric in question. The company supplied themselves quickly then broke into a swift trot.

Eowyn crested a grassy hill with her companions and surveyed the area. She spotted fighting further in the slope down the path. Men in armor that could only be the Templars were in melee with robed mages. There were bystanders running in a panic, carrying large travel bags and in some arms, children. Some Soldiers were seen clashing against Templars and Mages both, in defense of the frantic refugees.

“Inquisition forces are trying to protect the refugees!” Cassandra shouted, rallying. She unsheathed her weapon and ran forward unbidden to block a sword strike of a Templar that was aimed at one of the displaced elven men. Eowyn raced after her, summoning the Frenzied Flame Seal and the Backhand Blades. Varric readied Bianca with bolts as Solas cast a shield about them all.

The Tarnished slid into a Templar’s blind spot as he raised his sword to slay a weeping mage, darting her short saber across his unarmored hamstring. As he fell to one knee, Eowyn slashed across his heel. She then spun to the center of the skirmish and readied the oppressive Dragon Communion incantation, Greyoll’s Roar.

Mages and Templars alike gaped as Greyoll’s massive draconic head encased the Tarnished and shook them all with a guttural roar. Templars dropped their swords and Mages their staffs, both sides fell to their hands and knees as the pressure of the roar weighed down on their weary psyches. When the last of the echoes rang off past the hills, only Eowyn and her company were standing. The Inquisition forces were shielding the refugees from the fighting, but even they were kneeling in terror.

Eowyn’s steely gaze swept through the battlefield, her presence bearing upon them all like a looming, predatory serpent. She stepped toward a gasping Templar nearest her and reached out to grip his tabard. He keened unflatteringly in fright under the celestial eyes of the Tarnished.

“I hath come to end thy foolish strife.” Eowyn declared, her tone clear and unrelenting. Even as her gauntleted hand gripped the Templar above the ground, Eowyn turned to address the other cowering fighters.

“Cease all quarrels! Cast down thy arms and begone from this place!” She shouted across the hills, locking eyes with every warrior present, holy knight and magic user alike. The Tarnished then trailed her gaze to the Templar she held captive, her eyes burning from ocean blue to a sickly yellow. The Templar gasped and wailed, his hands shooting to grasp at his face. Eowyn released the man and he fell to his knees, eyes unseeing.

One of the mages screamed shrilly and ran in the opposite direction of the Tarnished. He was soon followed by another who hurriedly picked up his staff, eyes never leaving Eowyn’s face or losing their blind terror. The Templars were a bit more practiced in their motions of retreat, but none slowed or continued their battle. A remnant of each side strode closer to Eowyn as if in a trance. The armored woman’s stern gaze raked across them.

“Pledge thy fealty to me and lend thy aid to the Inquisition henceforth.” Eowyn commanded the group of assorted fighters that remained. Some of the men became pensive, others servile as they heard her words. Then they obeyed. All of the dozen men present kneeled before the Tarnished and mumbled hasty oaths, eyes flicking between the ground and Eowyn’s ruthless stature.

“And thus now thou shalt aid these wayfarers and heal thine hurt.” The Tarnished instructed the oathbound men to help pick up the scattered belongings of the refugees and heal any wounded.
One of the pledged mages stepped away from the Tarnished and went towards the bystanders, one nursing a cut knee. As the mage knelt and focused healing magic on the refugee’s leg, Eowyn broke her imperious stance and walked to Cassandra, who had sheathed her sword and was watching warily.

“How can you command them so easily?” She asked, marvelling at what she just witnessed. The Herald of Andraste just halted a full-fledged assault from both Mages and Templars by shouting and turning into a dragon’s head! The Seeker could hardly fathom the first encounter they had with the opposing Mages and Templars could end not only without much bloodshed, but with some of both sides swearing their lives to the Tarnished. In disbelief, she watched as the men went about healing the hurt and offering to carry the oversized bags belonging to the refugees.

“What use hath a god that forsakes authority?” Eowyn answered cryptically. Solas turned sharply to study the Tarnished. He seemed almost disapproving of her methods, or more likely, her words.

“At first you said you were cursed, being what you called ‘Tarnished’. Yet now you fashion yourself a god?” He stated with an unhappy twist to his mouth. Eowyn did not answer the elf at first. She had them move forward on the path to Mother Giselle’s location in silence. As they got closer to a gathering of people and a few buildings, Eowyn walked near Solas.

“The curse of the Tarnished is hatred and immortality.” She began, watching Solas’ face fall from carefully neutral to strangely grief stricken. “yet one may conquer that and shift all, if they wield their strength as I do.”

“And that makes you a god?” Solas scorned, his stormy grey eyes piercing Eowyn fearlessly.

“If I be deemed worthy to become one.” Eowyn replied, and walked on.

Solas left that unanswered, brooding at the ground as the company traveled into the camp. They did not have to look far to find Mother Giselle. The cleric was surrounded by a moaning and weeping crowd, their lean faces dirty and downtrodden.

Eowyn did not arrive unnoticed. Several eyes shifted to her as she entered into view of the thatched roofed houses along the central square of the Crossroads. Inquisition soldiers started, then hurriedly saluted to her and the Seeker as the armored women and their company passed them. Civilians and refugees tracked them unabashedly, some even making to walk toward her.

Eowyn’s heart panged in her breast as she laid eyes upon the refugees and soldiers waiting to be tended to by the scarce mages and followers of Mother Giselle. The Tarnished knew of her limits, yet she was loath to standby when innocents were wounded. Eowyn hastily nodded to the Inquisition soldiers keeping watch as she moved to those clutching their wounds on stretchers.

She spotted who could only be Mother Giselle kneeling near an afflicted soldier, placating his fears of magic as a mage stood close by. The aged cleric noticed Eowyn swiftly, and after saying a few more soft words to the prone soldier, walked over to meet the Tarnished.

“Art thou Mother Giselle?” Eowyn questioned the robed woman. Mother Giselle’s full lips lifted up at Eowyn’s manner of speech, but she nodded good naturedly.

“I am. And you must be the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste.” Mother Giselle confirmed in an accent Eowyn was curious in hearing. The aged woman’s bronze face was kind, yet weathered. The crow’s feet and laugh lines enhanced her motherly features without making her look elderly. Eowyn glanced at the mage tending to the soldier behind them. There were other mages lined along the wall drinking blue flasks hurriedly, while others rushed to their stricken charges.

“Mother, if it please ye, I shall mend these folk here.” Eowyn proclaimed respectfully yet firmly, preparing her Erdtree Seal. Mother Giselle tilted her head in question, but nodded in acquiescence.

“I’m sure our noble mages will thank you for giving them any brief respite.” The cleric allowed, smiling kindly. The mages nearest them froze at those words, and watched Eowyn wearily.

The Tarnished stepped forth into the throng of refugees supporting each other and Soldiers grimacing while leaning on signposts. Women standing close to their wounded men, holding babes on their hips and the hands of sniffling toddlers. They instinctively crowded around the Tarnished, as if knowing what she would next do somehow.

“Come hither all ye wounded!” She crowed before kneeling and drawing her considerable focus. Golden waves of light lifted off the armored form of the Tarnished as she cast Erdtree Heal in the largest area she could muster. The dome of gold expanded across the crowd of people, entrancing all near and gaining the attention of everyone in the Crossroads.

Eyes mended themselves in their sockets, legs set and kneaded together flawlessly, dark spots bruised across several faces disappeared completely, all at once. In just one moment, Eowyn healed over three dozen people to their full body of health.

The reaction was instantaneous. Men knocked over themselves jumping backward and cursing. Women fainted, their children wailing even as they were healed. Soldiers gripped weapons and tracked the Tarnished suspiciously. And others grasped at her, giving profuse thanks. Eowyn smiled beatifically at each face focused on hers before turning back to the shocked face of Mother Giselle. The Tarnished kindly loosed the desperate hands gripping her cloak and armor, murmuring platitudes and promising more aid, then addressed the cleric before her.

“I hearken that ye desire to have words with me.” Eowyn questioned as the two walked toward a less occupied area. Some of the refugees tried to follow, but Cassandra made a wall before them, her imposing figure stopping anyone who attempted to get past. The Tarnished led them to an overlook a few paces away and thankfully empty of any passerby.

“You have already answered some of my questions with your first actions since coming here.” Mother Giselle replied, offering a warm smile. “To give such powerful healing so selflessly, bears a character I hoped remained true with some stories about the Herald of Andraste I’ve been told.”

“’Tis a goodly thing to lighten their woes.” Eowyn responded graciously. Mother Giselle’s smile widened, the crow’s feet around her eyes becoming more pronounced. Her smile soon faltered and Mother Giselle sighed.

“I know the Chantry denounced you, and I know those who are involved. There are some grandstanding yes, thinking it an opportune time to cast their lot in as the new Divine. Others are truly fearful. There were many good people lost. What happened at the Conclave was a senseless tragedy.” Mother Giselle said, looking pained.

“Verily, tis most lamentable.” Eowyn said, head bowed.

Eowyn was somber, her entrance into this world may have indirectly caused the loss of so many lives. The Anchor on Eowyn’s palm crackled mutely, as if it were laughing at her.

“I desire the steadfast allegiance of thy Chantry at mine side as we ready ourselves for the morrow’s challenges.” Eowyn said, her marked hand a fist in its gauntlet.

“Then go to them. Convince the remaining Clerics you are no demon to be feared. Chancellor Roderick and mine are but one voice of support among many in fear. Be a rallying call of hope, and the people will listen to you as they will no other.” Mother Giselle instructed the Tarnished before letting her know she would head to Haven and provide Leliana with names of those amenable to a gathering. They made their farewells and Eowyn went back to find her party.

“You don’t do anything halfway, Tarnished.” Varric commented when they met back up near the square. The rogue was checking out the wares of a vendor slouched against the brick wall. He picked up a crossbow component, raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the salesman, and released it before walking away with Eowyn.

“Lady Giselle doth bid me venture forth to parley with the esteemed leaders of the Chantry at their hallowed stronghold.” Eowyn said, but then turned east. “yet we remain in dire need of those steeds.”

“We must reach horsemaster Dennett.” Cassandra added.

“Will you truly give healing to all these afflicted people?” Solas questioned Eowyn, an almost hopeful lilt to his voice. Eowyn gave him her brightest smile, making him blink at its radiance.

“Verily, of course I shall.” She answered and went around the Crossroads giving what aid she could to those resting there. A hunter asked for someone to help provide meat for the hungry and Eowyn immediately handed the man enough animal flesh to fill several crates. He balked at seeing the meat appear from thin air, but didn’t complain. Others needed healing or coin, which Eowyn was happy to provide. Yet eventually the company parted ways with the people at the Crossroads, waving at children and nodding resolutely to those the Tarnished aided.

On their way to the horsemaster’s property Eowyn and her party took swift notice of demons ranging near a bright green rift hanging in the sky. The small, log built house nearby looked abandoned, and Eowyn hoped its residents made it out alright. The team raced toward the rift and readied their armaments for battle.

Eowyn drew her mind to her Hand of Malenia, willing it to appear in her hand. Varric loaded a bolt into his trusty crossbow and aimed a shot. At that moment, a terror demon unseen burrowed into the ground before him. Eowyn saw the attack before her rogue companion did and rushed to his side.

“Whoa!” Varric exclaimed as movement blurred before his sight. The terror demon launched itself out of the ground just as Eowyn prepared her Seal above it. The Tarnished warrior grasped the putrid head of the spirit halfway out the broken earth and let loose an incantation. A spout of fire and magma burst from her Seal, torching the demon and targeting other enemies closest to them in wreaths of flame.

“Art thou in good health, my rogue?” Eowyn asked Varric, briefly checking on him before engaging another demon.

“Thanks for backing me up, Tarnished!” The dwarf called out, then pulled the trigger on Bianca and created a hole in a demon’s neck from across the field. Eowyn spun away from the vanquished spirit and darted her eyes to the crystalized rift above them.

“Close it now!” Solas cried, his eyes frantically searching for more enemies.

The Tarnished threw out her armored hand and made a fist, gripping the power of the Anchor. The cut in the Veil before them twisted and writhed before bursting into energy. Eowyn felt more than saw power flow from the rift into her marked arm, and rush through her body.

“Has your theory been proven true? Does the mark gain strength after closing rifts?” Cassandra asked as the Tarnished picked up the strange rags left behind by the defeated spirits. Even in the Lands Between Eowyn would take what seemed useful from her defeated foes. Some fallen enemies carry rare treasures unfound anywhere else but on their person.

“Verily, the Anchor doth flourish with increased might.” She answered, flexing her marked hand. The green scar hummed beneath her armor, unsated. “We must seek out greater rifts.”

The company moved on, exploring the Hinterlands and following the map to where Dennett was said to live. When they began to see wooden fences guarding milled land, the company knew they were in the right place. Yet they also saw crazed black wolves attacking wildlife in their path, the canine’s eyes rolling in their sockets. The pack sensed their approach and bayed as one, their howls fierce and unnatural.

“The Breach must have driven them mad, or a demon is controlling the pack.” Solas suggested, his eyes guarded. He gripped his staff as he watched the pack lope ever closer. Then one black wolf lunged at Cassandra, its head colliding with her shield. The Seeker wasted no time in stabbing it to death. The other wolves were uncowed and jumped at the rest of them, snarling.

When the scuffle with the wolves concluded, Eowyn bent to check the pelt of a dead wolf. Its scent was strange, and the Tarnished found difficulty placing where she encountered that smell before.

“You have caught that scent as well.” Solas remarked from beside her. “The unnamed smell of possessed animals lingers on these wolves. It seems I was correct, a demon must be controlling them.”

“We must seek out the foul demon and smite it forthwith.” Eowyn pledged.

The Hinterlands’ problems continued to compound with no one to solve them quickly. The Tarnished had a sudden vision of the desolate farmlands she crossed exploring Limgrave. Their owners dead or gone mad, leaving the plots to waste away. That was the future of this place if none stepped forth with the power to create solutions.

They came finally to Dennett’s property, and sought the man out. Dennett was a solidly built older man with a bald head and unimpressed eyes. When the company inquired about his horses, the man refused to give the Inquisition anything without helping him first.

It could have been providence that Dennett’s wife Elaina let them know that one task was to get rid of the black wolves that were terrorizing their farmland recently. Eowyn reassured the woman they would vanquish the beasts and the one controlling them. Elaina made a weird face at that and asked Eowyn where she was from, having such an accent and way of speech. Eowyn smiled and gave a half answer.

“Far away indeed, my lady.”

The company talked with the stablehand as well and with their new tasks, went onward to complete them. They stopped at a scout’s fledgling camp nearby bearing the flag of the eye and sword, and crowded the fire as one. The evening was approaching quickly along with its chill. Eowyn noticed her company’s flagging energy and proposed to stay at the camp until morning. None in their number was against the notion.

There was a stew pot above the fire with broth on the boil. Eowyn guessed ram meat would be placed inside by a scout, or maybe Fennec if they were unfortunate. The Tarnished scanned her internal inventory of meats and consumables before opening the pot and dropping in some Exalted Flesh. Cassandra caught her doing so and raised a dark eyebrow.

“I desire for us to partake in a meal most hearty this eve.” Eowyn explained, showing her another piece of Exalted Flesh. Cassandra examined it before questioning her companion.

“Where did this meat come from?” The Seeker asked, more curious than suspicious.

“Verily, 'tis flesh of beast preserved with sacred herbs and aromatic spices. Tis esteemed as a fine repast for those hailed as champions of valor.” The Tarnished said as she stirred the meat into the broth. “Fret not, for it is preserved in its finest state.”

Eowyn offered the dark haired woman a piece of the Exalted Flesh, which Cassandra accepted, likely very hungry after their trekking. Cassandra tried the proffered flesh, then after a moment reached quickly for her flask of water, downing the contents quickly. Eowyn grinned a bit at the display.

“It is quite spicy.” Cassandra remarked after emptying her flask. She went to the nearby stream to refill it with water and Eowyn went back to stirring the pot.

“Got anything sweet in that mysterious bag of Holding, Tarnished?” Varric questioned lightly as he sat on a log near the fire, cleaning Bianca.

“Alas, my noble friend, I fear I possess no confections to bestow upon thee.” Eowyn answered contritely, but Varric waved her off.

“It’s fine. Just seems like you can make just about anything appear in front of you. I might as well see if you can summon up a sweetroll.” He said with a grin. Eowyn smiled back at him before fishing for something else from within her.

The Tarnished held a Warming Stone in her palm before dropping it onto the fire. Instantly, the fire grew in warmth yet not size, and Eowyn heard Varric groan in relief as he stretched his legs. Solas, his tent preparations complete, sat by the fire as well. His eyes were lidded as the warm waves of healing gold washed over him.

“What was that you threw into the fire?” The elf asked, his eyes searching Eowyn like a puzzle to be solved.

“A Warming Stone. A fragment of ruin, graced by the gentle warmth of the Erdtree's embrace.” Eowyn responded and ladled some of the heated broth into bowls for each of them. “Take heed, for the heat is fierce.” She warned as she passed them their meal.

The company ate quietly, though all of them had to refill their water containers several times after sampling the Exalted Flesh. As evening became night, Eowyn offered to keep watch and the rest climbed into their tents without argument. The Warming Stone’s influence waned until it stopped completely, leaving the campsite darker and colder, even with the fire still lit. Eowyn sat near the flames, her thoughts turning melancholy in her solitude.

As always, the white haired woman’s mind drifted to her once kindling maiden Melina. She wouldn’t regret taking the first watch, her Tarnished body needing less rest than her companions, yet she still wished to dream. Dreaming would give her another chance to see her fair Melina once more, and maybe even to find a way to make their visits more lasting.

Eowyn then dwelt on her fate, her journey into Thedas and how she became a symbol of hope to some as the Herald of Andraste, instead of a figure of fear and loathing as a Tarnished. None knew what being a Tarnished meant here in this realm, and Eowyn was perplexed that so few, except demons, attacked her on sight as she was so used to in the Lands Between.

Some she had spoken to sniggered at her way of speech, and she knew here, her accent was one of a kind. However, Eowyn wasn’t much used to talking to any but Melina and the Tarnished in the Roundtable Hold. Her accent was shared by Gideon Ofnir, and her way of speech fashioned after Queen Marika and the demigods, so Eowyn didn’t find it strange until she was transported to Thedas.

Most residents of this land wished to talk before battle, to converse and reach nonviolent solutions before laying down their lives in a fight. Eowyn had never been to a village like Haven without having someone there want to kill her. And maybe someone in Haven does wish her dead, but they haven’t acted upon their desire in the usual way of her homeland.

The Tarnished knew it meant she had to be more wary of knives in the dark and betrayal, but she found an odd comfort in finding none who would just yell out ‘Tarnished!’ and then chase her with murderous intent. Yet she had only been in this land for less than a week, there was still time.

Eowyn heard rustling behind her and watched Cassandra exit her tent. Eowyn looked up at the stars, determining that time indeed flew swiftly as she brooded. The fire was merely embers when the Seeker came to sit by Eowyn.

“If you want to rest, I can carry on the watch.” Cassandra offered Eowyn in that alluring inflection of hers. Eowyn gave her companion a small smile and stood, going to her tent as Cassandra stretched herself out in preparation for hours of vigilance.

-

Eowyn knew she had entered the Fade the moment her dream began. She was once again in the Lands Between, this time she sat at the Grace nearest the gigantic stone steps leading to the Capital of Leyndell. The soldiers littering the Altus Highway were missing, along with the Giant Tree Sentinel duo at the top of the stair’s climb. The flaxen grass waved in a calm breeze as the burning Erdtree loomed over the idyllic scene, sending its ash across the realm.

Eowyn’s muddled thoughts fought to focus on her former maiden, to meet her once again in her slumber. Joy filled her as she heard the shimmering of blue light beside her, indicating Melina’s arrival. Eowyn looked over at her dearest maiden, her smile waning at Melina’s distraught face.

“We have traveled long together, and I have guided you down the path to become Elden Lord.” Melina began, her golden eye set upon Eowyn as she sat beside her. “Yet now you are far away, and the Elden Throne is empty with none worthy to fill it. Please my Tarnished, return to the Lands Between and fulfill your oath.”

Eowyn drank in the vision of her maiden, searing every detail into her memory. She had the sudden urge to embrace Melina, to carry her from this dream and into her waking life. She resisted, but not enough to stop herself from placing her bare hand upon Melina’s.

“Verily, I know not the path to my return. If only thou couldst join me in this realm, my fair maiden.” Eowyn lamented, unable to move her eyes away from Melina’s face. Her maiden was silent for a moment, despair plainly on her features.

“What will happen to the Lands Between now that you have sojourned the Elden Ring along in your quest?” Melina challenged. Her voice was soft, yet carried a tinge of bitterness. “There is none to replace you, and no power to supplant the Elden Ring. This land is dying, and even for a spirit it is difficult to remain here.”

“It is but a cycle,” Eowyn muttered resentfully. Melina’s eye widened in puzzlement. “A cruel wheel circling to crush my will with every turn.”

Eowyn released Melina’s hand and looked down at the Anchor on her palm. Even if she could return she had a mind not to. She would only be sent to wake up in that accursed graveyard yet again to begin her pointless quest, everyone she knew returning alive but their memories of her forgotten.

“What do you mean?” Melina asked quietly. The Tarnished never told her anything like this before in their travels. Eowyn raked her marked hand across her white hair, and sighed.

“Each time I take my seat upon the Elden Throne, mine existence doth renew.” Eowyn revealed to her shocked maiden. “I have traversed this path countless times, witnessing thine demise at that forge oft enough to rend my sanity asunder.”

Eowyn reached for Melina’s hand again, but the golden eyed girl moved it away, confusion in her gaze.

“But you used the Flame of Frenzy to burn the Erdtree,” Melina countered. Eowyn smiled mirthlessly.

“Indeed, this cycle, for truth.” Eowyn agreed. “Yet in times past, thou dost plunge into yonder forge, forsaking me to complete mine own quest in solitude.” She finished, her eyes displaying the depths of her sorrow.

Melina looked down thoughtfully, Eowyn’s words carrying a truth unknown to her. To Melina, it was the first journey to the Erdtree with Eowyn, her Tarnished. When Eowyn laid down her plans to usurp Melina’s purpose on that fateful day, the kindling maiden left her Tarnished in betrayal and anger.

Yet she still followed invisibly beside her. She watched unseen as her Tarnished wrested the Flame of Frenzy from the Three Fingers, and then saw her sit, trance-like, as the Frenzied Flame scoured the Erdtree to open a path inside. Melina lost contact with her Tarnished there, when she saw her suddenly disappear.

The kindling Maiden waited by the foot of the Erdtree unnoticed, as mighty Godfrey, the first Elden Lord made his way up the steps to the Elden Throne. Melina thought the once-Consort of Queen Marika would enter the Erdtree himself, yet Godfrey kneeled at Morgott’s ravaged and dying body to whisper words she couldn’t hear.

Then Melina saw her Tarnished appear at the foot of the steps with a bold purpose in her gait, eyes ocean blue and unblemished with the foul Flame. Melina watched as Eowyn battled desperately against the first Elden Lord, forcing him to sacrifice his Beast Regent Serosh and his title of Elden Lord, and fight her warrior to warrior.

Melina watched, invisible, as Eowyn entered the Erdtree. Then, after a time, she felt a massive surge of power from the Erdtree’s entrance. As if the Elden Ring itself was being brandished to create, or destroy. The entrance to the Erdtree exploded outward, forcing the sacred bark in all directions. Melina stood intangible as pieces of her birthplace flew past her into the capital below. It was enough power to harken a new age. Melina tracked the wreckage for any sign of her Tarnished to no avail.

Melina cautiously entered the golden tree after countless hours waiting for her Tarnished, or anyone, to emerge. And she found nothing. Nothing but the headless torso of some unknown statue, and the heady residue of arcane energy. Her Tarnished was nowhere to be seen and neither was Queen Marika, rumored to be trapped inside the Erdtree herself. Melina exited the hallowed tree and sat upon its steps to weep.

Time passed slowly for the kindling Maiden as she walked alone and unseen across the Lands Between, searching for Eowyn. Then finally, she felt the presence of her Tarnished companion once again. It was faint on the wind, lingering with another unknown scent. Melina traveled to her Tarnished side and found her at the site of their first meeting, near a Grace in Limgrave, calmly asleep. Melina noticed that Eowyn’s form was faded, as if just a hollow representation of her true self.

Nevertheless, her Tarnished had returned, and Melina was glad. But they were now suddenly world’s apart, Eowyn somehow projecting her form across the world of dreams, and questing in a new, unknown realm.

And even still her Tarnished comes with more revelations. Her path to the Erdtree was an endless cycle for her. Eowyn had lived through their travels countless times, reached the Elden Throne countless times, watched Melina burn her life away as kindling countless times….

No wonder the Tarnished did not return in truth. Being in a realm other than the Lands Between must be a relief for her. To come back only in dreams would be a comfort. Nonetheless, the Lands Between need a Lord, and its existence hinged upon the Elden Ring’s presence. For Eowyn to take the Elden Ring into her bosom and flee, she doomed the Lands Between to a slow erasure.

“Will you not relinquish the Elden Ring to its rightful place, Tarnished?” Melina uttered after a long silence in which Eowyn watched her face change through a myriad of emotions.

Eowyn balked at her maiden’s words, eyebrows raised into her white hair. Relinquish the Elden Ring? To whom?

“I wouldest sooner allow this realm to perish than sunder the sacred Elden Ring.” Eowyn denied, her face set. “Yet I vow unto thee, I shall seek a path to rescue thee from thence and bring thee into this realm.”

Melina’s golden eye closed, the maiden frozen in deep contemplation. Eowyn gazed at her, etching into her memory the way her maiden’s cloak rippled in the soft breeze, how her dark hair shadowed her eyes. The Tarnished carved into her thoughts the gentle smile Melina wore when she regarded Eowyn once more, her flaxen eye crinkling with warmth.

Melina grasped the hand of her beloved warrior, her scarred skin radiating heat. “I will hold you to that vow, my dear Tarnished.” she claimed and strengthened her grip. Eowyn grasped her hand with matched vigor, their eyes pledging an unspoken oath. Eowyn would find a way to bring Melina to Thedas, even if it broke the world.

Chapter Text

The Tarnished warrior Eowyn gripped the struggling maw of a large black wolf and stabbed its back with the Velvet Sword of St Trina. The crazed amber eyes of the wolf blinked rapidly before closing, its breathing already deep. Eowyn released the sleeping wolf and dashed toward another.

The company was in a cave network that carried the musky scent of wolves along with that noisome smell of demon possession. Black wolves patrolled the mouth of the cave and viciously attacked when Eowyn’s team approached. What came after was the team frantically fighting back against the possessed wolves as Eowyn went around stabbing them with her sword of sleep, taking the wolves out of the fight without killing them.

Solas seemed to approve of her methods, and assisted in holding the curs still so Eowyn could stab them into slumber. Soon, the terror demon holding the wolves under thrall appeared. Eowyn switched her weapon to the Sword of Night and Flame and entered the fray, this demon wouldn’t get the comfort of sleep.

With the wolves taken care of, the team moved on the other orders of business Dennett wished them to complete before they could procure horses for the Inquisition. They set up points where the Inquisition could build watchtowers around the farm, and found the wayward druffalo near the Wolf Hollow. Dennett couldn’t help but be a little impressed by Eowyn and her company, and promised horses would be sent to Haven as quickly as he could manage it.

Dennett also provided their company with horses to ride back to Haven, and when Eowyn politely declined her own mount, she was suddenly the center of attention.

“You need a mount. We will quickly outpace you on our horses and we must stay together in the Hinterlands.” Cassandra urged.

“Don’t tell me you have some way to travel faster than a horse in that invisible bag of yours.” Varric quipped, but he seemed almost resigned to it being a probable happening.

“Verily, mine swiftest means of travel dost not avail in this realm. Yet, I possess a noble steed already.” Eowyn explained to her company.

“You actually have a horse in there?” Varric asked in disbelief. Eowyn answered with a mysterious smile and started to unclasp one of her gauntlets.

“At last, I may summon Torrent, mine Spectral Steed!” The Tarnished Herald of Andraste exclaimed, and put her hand to her lips, the golden ring-whistle now clearly visible on her finger. She then blew into it, the piercing sound echoing slightly. In a shower of blue motes of light, Eowyn was instantly sitting in the saddle of a horned, greyish horse-like creature. Long, shaggy hair covered its squat body. It was already equipped with saddlebags and chewed mildly on some treat Eowyn led cheerfully to its mouth.

Cassandra gasped, jumped back and unsheathed her sword, scowling in surprise and anger. Varric shouted, ‘Whoa shit!’ and backed up at least ten paces. Only Solas was unaffected by the sudden appearance of Eowyn’s spirit steed. The elf was the first to come closer, excited interest in his grey eyes.

“You have summoned a spirit!” Cassandra accused, her eyes squinting in fury and strangely, betrayal. She held her sword in front of her, as if Torrent would abruptly attack. Eowyn gazed down at the Seeker, disappointed by her suspicion and hostility.

“Verily, the noble Torrent doth harbor no intent to strike thee.” Eowyn said, unimpressed. She never had Torrent attack any enemy, leaving any combat to herself while riding. The Tarnished didn’t know if Torrent was even able to strike someone, though she knew he could be attacked himself.

“How can you summon a spirit into this world without it becoming twisted by the Veil?” Solas asked, looking between Torrent and Cassandra who was still armed and snarling.

The elf approached Torrent carefully, as if the mild steed were a griffon. When Solas was an arm's length away he slowly brushed his hand through Torrent’s wooly, unkempt mane. The hedge-mage’s face was unreadable.

“Torrent doth not hail from the Fade.” Eowyn clarified, then cast a stern look to Cassandra. “Seeker, sheathe thy blade, for Torrent is mine steadfast steed and I shall not allow any peril to befall him.” Cassandra was a stalwart and trusted companion but Eowyn would not allow Torrent to come to harm. If Cassandra attacked her steed, Eowyn would be sworn to retaliate, damning the sprouting Inquisition to ruin, along with possibly the whole of Thedas.

“How do we know this spirit is not a demon or could become one?” The Seeker questioned, but eventually sheathed her sword. She continued to watch them warily, vexed as to why the Herald would keep this ability from them.

Bringing a spirit into this world is extremely dangerous as the Veil and the emotions of any nearby could influence them, turning them into a demon. Cassandra’s eyes searched the Tarnished’s form mounted on the spirit, seeking an intention, any sign she wasn’t who she appeared to be.

“Torrent is no fiend, for I have journeyed with him long e'er to remain ignorant of this truth. He is mild and kind, and loves Rowa Raisins.” The Tarnished finished with a chuckle and fed Torrent another raisin. The wooly haired steed snorted and flipped his shaggy mane, nibbling on the raisin unbothered.

“Seeker, the horse,” He glanced at Torrent’s horns, “uh steed, hasn’t attacked yet.” Varric mediated, an easy grin at peace on his scruffy face. Cassandra looked unsurely from Torrent to the dwarf. “Tarnished has a lot of surprises but I don’t think she’d wait until we all have mounts before summoning some demonic horse.”

“My thanks Varric.” Eowyn smiled at the rogue, who returned it with a wink. Cassandra made a noise of disgust and turned away.

The company made their way on horseback across the Hinterlands, finding more camps started by scouts and strange objects like one that highlighted special skulls to find, and another that showed star constellations not unlike the Astrolabes of the Lands Between. Eowyn found herself enjoying her time with her companions, talking to them and learning more about the world she was in, as well as giving them insight about the realm she left behind.

One particularly relishing fact she learned was that Cassandra killed a number of dragons to save the Divine’s life a while back. The Seeker stoically endured Eowyn’s enthusiasm but was generous with the details when the Tarnished excitedly asked for them.

Varric strode up to Eowyn as they traveled and asked idly, “So do you carry any good books in that bottomless bag?”

Eowyn inventoried her library within her mind and grimaced, noting her rather macabre collection. “Nay, I dost not, save thou dost find delight in perusing tomes of culinary art or sacred writings of the fervent supplication of cultists.” she replied, making Varric’s nose scrunch up in distaste.

“I think I’ll hold off on those.” Varric declined.

“These tomes were most enlightening in the art of spells and wondrous miracles, yet render themselves as tedious reading.” Eowyn agreed, gaining the attention of Solas. The elven hedge-mage led his mount to Eowyn with a glint of interest in his eye.

“Pardon my eavesdropping Eowyn, but I heard you mention books about spells and miracles. Could I perhaps see one?” Solas asked conversationally with the gleam of an academic in his eye. Eowyn wondered which would be best to show the elf first.

“Pray tell, noble friend, which tome dost thou favor? I possess scrolls of enchantments and a multitude of sacred prayerbooks.” Eowyn explained, and called the Academy Scroll into her hands on a whim. The thick, glintstone dusted primer appeared and Solas had to visibly restrain himself from snatching the scroll from Eowyn’s grasp. She handed the ancient script to the elf and watched with a grin as he was instantly absorbed in its writings.

Soon they came by more Mages and Templars fighting across acres of desecrated farmland. Fires were scouring the fields and corpses wearing neither affiliation were found near the farm houses. A crazed mage wildly launched a fireball at a group of Templars gathered by a grain silo. The fireball went past the men and torched the defenseless tower. Eowyn growled in rage at the wanton destruction. Her companions hitched their horses on the outskirts of the land while Eowyn just hopped off Torrent, causing the steed to disappear into blue light.

The groups of fighters were scattered throughout the farm’s property and were causing considerable damage even as they killed each other. Eowyn brought forth Lusat’s Glintstone Staff and prepared her spells as she ran into range of the chaos. The first spell Eowyn casted as her eyes swept across the bedlam was Collapsing Stars, a Gravity sorcery that shot out dark orbs, forcibly pulling a number of Mages and Templars toward her. The men shouted in alarm as they were grasped by Gravity and brought forth before the enraged Tarnished. A Fleeting Microcosm burst into existence, trapping Mages and Templars alike within and Eowyn, holding her staff aloft, measured the men struggling in her spell.

“How dost thou possess the audacity to slay so heedlessly in this serene realm?” Eowyn began with quiet fury, though the trapped men heard her even over the roaring fires and collapsing farming structures. “I shall be the end of this irresponsible conflict. Desist from battle, lay down thine arms and return to thine abodes.”

The Microcosm holding the men exploded outward, spilling them across the rough, dirt packed roadside. The men that weren’t knocked out cold by the blast struggled to stand and orient themselves. When they caught sight of Eowyn holding her foreign staff with glinting azure eyes, the once warring men threw down their arms and ran wayward of her ominous silhouette. The Tarnished and her company let them go.

Yet there were two men, one a Mage and another, a Templar, whose faces crumbled into a rictus of frenzy when they realized their freedom and saw Eowyn before them. The Templar gripped his sword and the Mage, his staff, as both attacked in tandem, their warring status temporarily a ceasefire.

Eowyn banished her glintstone staff and replaced it with Rellana’s Twin Blades in each hand. The magic wrought sword in Eowyn’s right hand parried the Templar’s aggressive downward slash whilst her left handed blade of fire pierced the Mage deep in his chest. Eowyn spun to her right and as the Carian sword shone with sorcerous essence, and brought the blade down upon the Templar. A ray of solid light burst from her sword, slamming into the armored man and ending his life in one fell slash. The mage fell soon after.

Eowyn then searched for her companions and spotted Cassandra stabbing a flailing mage into the ground to the left of her a few paces away. Varric was aiming down his sights on a small cliff across the farm’s ruined crops ahead of her, and Solas froze a Templar solid behind her before suddenly blurring from one place to by her side in an instant.

“Are you well?” Solas prompted with a concerned hand on her shoulder. Eowyn nodded quickly and willed her swords away. The rest of the fighting was over. The men that ran away didn’t return and the rest were dead. Eowyn spared a glance at the charred bodies laying in the ashes of the destroyed farmhouse then turned away.

“I have witnessed far graver trials. Now, let us seek out their strongholds and bring this conflict to a resolute close.” Eowyn muttered then whistled for Torrent once again. She rode back to where the other mounts were hitched in brooding silence.

Eowyn reflected on the realization that in the Lands Between, on her journey it always seemed like she was centuries too late. What was left was the ruins, the remembrance of once greatness in the stone churches and Divine towers. The fighting was over with no clear victor, and armies abandoned in enemy territory, mad with despair were locked in eternal stalemate. Eowyn knew the Lands Between was broken beyond repair. The hunt for the Elden Ring is only a final effort by a dead goddess to get someone, anyone to fix it.

But in Thedas, even though some history and happenings were alarming, people were still living here. They were alive in their hatred, fear and devotion. The wars they waged were being won or lost on this day, not eons ago. Nobles pressed their silk boots down on the heads of slaves with cognizant minds, not the murky drawl of an undead imitation. Eowyn wondered if she was equipped to handle such rapid changes of hale peoples reacting to her actions and intervention. Could the Tarnished keep up in a world not confined to an endless cycle? Was she still trapped in the endless loop even in this new world?

They traveled farther onward, Solas reading quietly in his saddle and Varric fiddling irritably with the custom stirrups he was utilizing. Cassandra seemed lost in thought and Eowyn looked ahead, searching for more of the rampant chaos that swallowed the Hinterlands of late.

She didn’t have to search far. The company rode closer to a looming tower with people standing near the entrance, some in castoff robes of the Chantry. One ornately dressed woman flagged Eowyn down when she approached. The Tarnished gazed regally at the woman, her Veteran armor gleaming in the sunlight and dire wolf cape picking up slightly in the soft breeze.

“I am Speaker Anais.” The woman introduced herself with the accent of a Fereldan, but with the ardent gaze of a cultist. “My following believes the Maker opened the sky to punish us. The demons will cleanse the unworthy and the Maker’s true disciples will ascend to the Golden City beyond the Veil. Yet, the burgeoning legend of the Herald of Andraste tells us of a savior with the power to close the wound in the sky. I was told that a woman in bright armor was near here claiming to be the Herald of Andraste. Is it you?” The woman asked, looking up at Eowyn with a dichotomy of suspicion and hope warring on her face.

“I am indeed the Herald of Andraste, verily. Mine name is Eowyn.” The Tarnished answered. Speaker Anais tilted her head a bit.

“But are you truly? The Maker had not yet told me.” The woman replied, her eyes, fervent with devotion, flicked from Eowyn’s face to her marked hand.

Eowyn caught and held the Speaker’s ardent gaze. “I wot not the Maker’s plans. Yet I know I am come to heal thy ailing and seal shut the Breach.” She declared resolutely.

The Speaker's eyes burned with a zealous fire as she heard Eowyn’s words. She turned and commanded the guard to open the gates to the tower. “Then please, close the rift in that cave. We must know the Maker has given you the power to control them.” The woman implored the Herald.

Eowyn strode into the building, taking in the sight of people conversing nervously in corners and watching the newcomers with trepidation. The Tarnished caught sight of the rift in a cave past the building’s walls and rushed toward it. She passed praying cultists lining the walls unperturbed. Inside the cave, terror demons were already materializing from the green lightning flashes of the rift. Eowyn grasped the Frenzied Flame Seal and lifted her hand imperiously. A sigil of golden wings appeared above her as her armored form rose into the air.

The Light of Miquella incantation swallowed the cave with a blinding flash of holy light. Cultists closest to the cave were blown sideways and Eowyn’s cloak rippled in the strong wind her spell created. None of the demons of terror survived the first casting, and as beams of radiance showered the area, the rift above crystalized. Eowyn seized the scar in the Veil with the Anchor and effortlessly sealed the rift.

Eowyn turned to see the once praying cultists still kneeling, staring at her in awe. A gathering crowd partially obscured Speaker Anais who was backed against the fountain in the tower’s center clutching her chest, eyes full of worship.

“You truly are Maker-sent. I was a fool to doubt you. I hereby pledge myself to your cause, Herald of Andraste.” The Speaker announced loudly and fervently. “What would you have me do, my Lady?”

“Enlist thyself in the Inquisition. Be mine vigilant sentinels within the Hinterlands.” Eowyn commanded, her presence looming over bystanders in the fountain square and the pale Speaker. Anais pledged herself to the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisition with devoted zeal. The Tarnished made her way to the gates of the tower gracefully, her companions beside her, leaving an awed silence in their wake.

“That might have been a bit overkill, Tarnished.” Varric commented as they traveled more southward. Eowyn grinned at the dwarf and scratched the back of her neck.

“Verily, it didst succeed, did it not? And with haste, I wouldst add.” Eowyn defended playfully.

“Oh definitely ‘with haste’. I think that might have been the fastest rift you’ve closed so far.” Varric replied. Eowyn smirked impishly at the dwarf.

“I sense the Anchor doth groweth ever stronger. Verily, I believe I shall possess sufficient might for the Breach anon.” Eowyn said while marvelling at the Anchor and steering Torrent with her knees.

“That is good news.” Cassandra added from her mount beside Eowyn.

“It did not take long for the Anchor to acclimate to your body.” Solas chimed in from his saddle, head still deep in the Academy Scroll Eowyn gifted him earlier.

“Verily, 'tis the might of the Elden Ring that rendereth the task less daunting. The twain arts ‘ere nigh into flawless union.” Eowyn replied. No one spoke for a moment as they parsed what Eowyn said.

“So let’s find another rift and blow it up.” Varric called out eventually. Eowyn agreed with a laugh and rushed forward on Torrent.

They found another rift soon enough. It wounded the sky above the massive closed gate at the edge of the Hinterlands. Eowyn leaped off Torrent without looking, landing on unsteady ground right as the rift tossed green disruptive energy on her position. She was tossed into the air with a cry of pain.

Eowyn recovered quickly and rolled away from another explosion, willed her Nagikiba into her grip, and spun to slash across the torso of a rage demon. The Tarnished made another rotation and her blade cleaved the center of the demon apart. Rykard’s Great Rune hummed with relish, rewarding the Tarnished for extinguishing the spirits with a balm to her wounds.

Cassandra shouted an animalistic taunt from her place in the battle, challenging the swarming demons to clash against her sword and shield. As they seethed around her, slashing with their clawed hands, the dark haired warrior woman dealt a decisive cut sideways through the throng. Then the Seeker pressed her shield close to her front and launched forward, hurtling through the writhing spirits.

Varric jumped away from a terror demon’s burrowing swipe and threw caltrops at its feet. He aimed a heavy bolt primed on Bianca, and fired. The terror demon screeched as it died, a hole through its grotesque forehead.

Solas fade-stepped away from a rage demon’s claws, focused his mana into lightning and struck the malformed spirits before him. The lightning dashed between the demons, leaving them paralyzed in shock. The mage then summoned an eruption of fire below the flailing demons, ending their torment.

The team made quick work of the monstrous fiends forced through the Veil by the rift, and the moment it crystallized, Eowyn seized the fissure with her Anchor and sealed it shut. Eowyn looked to the sky where the rift had disappeared, and sensed the mark grow in power. It was time to meld the matured Anchor to her own strength, and to the Elden Ring.

The party quickly retreated to the nearest camp to resupply and rest. As the company caught their breath, Eowyn retired to her tent and attuned her focus to the Anchor. The Elden Ring in her chest flared in time with her beating heart. The Mending Rune of Perfect Order thrummed within, casting its dominion over the Anchor.

Eowyn remembered Brother Corhyn and the noble Goldmask as she recognized the Great Rune’s activation. Corhyn’s descent into despair was haunting. Eowyn could never allow anyone to imbibe the Tonic of Forgetfulness ever again, but seeing the cleric lose his purpose and curse his once revered master was disheartening, even if Eowyn gained the Mending Rune from the aftermath.

Morgott’s anchoring Great Rune shone next, melding the power of the mark to Eowyn’s essence permanently. Eowyn winced as the Runes within her seared her very soul with inexplicable heat. Eowyn gasped in pain, gripping her unarmored chest. Cassandra opened the Herald’s tent hurriedly, her face concerned.

“Herald- Eowyn, what is happening?” She implored in near panic, her Nevarran accent thick with distress. The Seeker held Eowyn down as she writhed in agony, the Elden Ring blazed clearly through her skin, the Mending Rune of Perfect Order and Morgott’s Great Rune shining the brightest. Solas burst into the tent and murmured healing spells, while Varric watched on outside by the fire, his face carved from stone.

After a few more moments of the Tarnished flailing and screaming, the Elden Ring abruptly quieted its burning sigil on her chest. The Anchor on her left hand appeared to coalesce the green energy that flowed into a light, almost invisible scar along her slim wrist. Eowyn’s arched back instantly fell to her cot as her breathing slowed and her face shone with sweat. Eowyn’s long white hair was unkempt and damp, and her sweat soaked underclothes were tangled around her limbs. She looked to be already in a deep sleep. Solas wiped her forehead with a cloth and sent Cassandra a lost look that she returned.

“Eowyn appeared to have linked her Anchor to this Elden Ring she carries.” Solas theorized as he watched her sleep. He craved to sleep as well, to watch her in the Fade and see if her dreams changed. Would she still pine over that young maiden in those peaceful groves or will her dreams differ now that the Anchor is a part of her? The hedge-mage almost began meditating in his precarious spot, eager to sate his curiosity.

“When she wakes, we will finally be ready to close the Breach.” Cassandra replied, her concern for Eowyn gradually being overridden by satisfaction and fatigue as she watched her Tarnished companion sleep.

“Then maybe letting her sleep unbothered would be the best idea, Seeker.” Varric called by the fire as he cleaned Bianca. Cassandra grimaced but moved from Eowyn’s tent to her own. Soon Solas left the Herald to rest and passed Varric on his way toward his own tent.

“What did we get ourselves into Chuckles?” Varric muttered while wiping down Bianca’s sights. Solas sighed and paused, his back turned from Eowyn’s tent and his eyes focused on the fire.

“In all my time journeying in the Fade, I’ve never come across anything like the Elden Ring that resides in the Herald.” The elf said quietly after a while. “I hope she is well versed on how to use this power, the Anchor and the Elden Ring, and that she is aware of how dangerous it is for all of Thedas if she uses it wrong.”

-

Eowyn woke up in the middle of the night from a dreamless sleep that could only come from complete exhaustion. She crawled out of her tent toward the dying fire where a lean figure still perched, their silhouette obscuring the diminishing embers. Eowyn sat next to the figure who turned out to be Cassandra, and pushed her hands as close to the flames she could. The chill of the Hinterlands clung to the Tarnished through her underclothes until she forfeited a Warming Stone to fall at her feet. Eowyn turned to the Seeker and gave her a small smile.

“I beseech thee, forgive mine errant heart for causing thee concern.” Eowyn apologized quietly. She must have looked a fright, flailing about and screaming her throat raw. Eowyn cursed her bullheaded ways. There is more than just a spirit maiden to worry over her now. Cassandra was silent for a moment before answering just as quietly.

“It was nothing. As long as you are ready.”

“The Anchor doth stand whole. We shall now be able to seal the Breach entirely.” Eowyn continued. Her solemn voice barely reached past the hum of the Warming Stone but Cassandra turned to her and nodded with comprehension.

“Then we leave the Hinterlands at dawn.” Cassandra decided. Eowyn frowned at one point of that decision.

“I dost swear to bring an end to the conflict 'twixt Mage and Templar, and I shall see mine oath fulfilled.” She argued with resolution befitting a knight. Cassandra was heartened by the sentiment, but not the timing or the methods of the Tarnished.

“We cannot delay the closing of the Breach.” Cassandra asserted, her tone obstinate. “The mage and templar war will not be won by you going around scaring all the fighters away. We need time to plan and reach ceasefires and truces with their leaders.”

Eowyn looked over at the dark haired woman, her frown fading into a small smirk. “Dost thou bid me to ponder ere I leap forth, O Seeker??” she taunted her normally impulsive companion. Cassandra responded with an unimpressed glare.

“The Breach comes first. Then we can try to solve this mage and templar problem.” Cassandra answered, then whispered to herself, “If it has a solution.”

Eowyn stood from the log nearest the fire and stretched her lithe form, her arms raised skyward. “Fair morrow, Cassandra.” She said to the still sitting woman and made for her tent. The Seeker raised a hand in parting but said nothing, her mind racing with doubt even as she basked in the soft gold of the Warming Stone.

Chapter Text

Eowyn sat up in the fetid, ankle deep puddle and looked at her dark surroundings with dread. The Tarnished felt her heartbeat drum a rapid tempo in her chest as she gazed at the unclaimed bones scattered about, the phantom reprobate in the chair, and the pale gold sprout of a minor Erdtree limb before her.

She was back in the Stranded Graveyard once again. Eowyn’s breath hitched as she stumbled backward in disbelief and confusion. How could she possibly be back here? Why wasn’t she in Thedas, in the Hinterlands, in her tent by the fire? Did she somehow trigger another cycle to begin even though she never sat on the Elden Throne?

The unarmored foot of the Tarnished slipped on one of the muddy rocks littering the gravesite. Her face splashed painfully into the damp ground as Eowyn was forced to her hands and knees. The woman knelt there for a moment, her breathing uncharacteristically fast and uneven.

Then she screamed. Eowyn screamed wretchedly into the dank cave until her voice broke and her cries echoed despondently against the dark walls.

The cycle claimed her again. Once more she was collared by this endless loop. No longer Elden Lord or Herald of Andraste, Eowyn would be forced to travel the Lands Between and fulfill her mission anew, or ‘die in obscurity’ as that blood drunk fool loitering above liked to say. The second option was barred to her being Tarnished and immortal. And ‘living in obscurity’ was not a choice she could make either, as safe places in this realm were rare and temporary. No one suffered a Tarnished long in the Lands Between.

Eowyn walked slowly like a penitent convict guided to her execution. Up the stairs and through the door she went, until she stood before the Site of Grace. The Grace was settled near a wall of fog and an archway at the end of the cobweb strewn hallway. Eowyn could navigate this accursed catacomb blind. So many times she’d cleared that fog with a Stonesword Key, and many more times she ignored it to rise with the ancient elevating platform beyond the archway.

The eternally chained Tarnished pushed against the double doors, as she did endlessly before, and opened them to what she thought would be the tragically familiar scene of Limgrave. Instead she shaded her eyes against the bright green luminance of a wildly uncontrolled, malevolent hole in the sky. The Breach was inexplicably present in the Lands Between, spread across the entire heavens. The maw of the Veil swirled tumultuously and spewed charred rocks to explode upon the already devastated world.

The Erdtree’s bark seemed to be darker and shifting strangely as well. There was a confused moment before Eowyn realized it was a horde of chittering creatures crawling over the sacred tree, covering its blessed light with a grotesque murmuration of hellish fiends. Eowyn felt bile rush up her throat at the sight.

“How could such a dire fate befall the realm?” Eowyn despaired aloud. Her legs took her to the Grace that miraculously was still visible in this world overrun, and Eowyn dropped down haphazardly beside it.

“Because you weren’t here, lambkin.”

Eowyn’s eyes shot up and she beheld the bloodstained Mohg worshipper White-Masked Varre standing at his usual spot by a rock overlooking the cliff. His tone was as condescending and infuriating as ever, but his words gave Eowyn pause. She left the Grace to stand before the blood drunk man, eager for any kind of answers.

“What dost thou imply? Speak plainly, foul Varre!” She demanded imperiously, only now realizing she was wearing naught but her undershirt and cotton hosen. Varre looked as surprised as the emotionless mask he wore allowed, leaning his head back and raising his hands. Then he chuckled. A careless sound jarring amongst the hellish backdrop.

“Oh, you know my name! What a curious Tarnished you are. I won’t say I know yours, but I do know of you.” The Bloody Finger replied, his tone never shedding the superior air it carried. “You’re that Tarnished that was supposed to become Elden Lord. But instead you stole the Elden Ring and ran away, leaving the Lands Between to the whims of that great hole in the sky.”

“Nay, it cannot be so!” Eowyn denied with glassy eyes. She turned to look again upon the ravaged Limgrave. Creatures she could clearly identify as demons wandered the plain, leaving mangled wildlife in their wake. The sickly green sky hurled its anger at the ruins below, destroying any structures still standing. The Church of Elleh further along the path was a mass of crumbled stone, a portion of the walls black from the raging wildfire within.

“It is definitely so, my dear lambkin.” Varre continued fervently, relishing the sorrow Eowyn bled in front of him. “Because of you, the Lands Between are no more. Without the Elden Ring, this world will soon die a miserable death.”

“Lo, 'tis but a cycle! I shall seek a path to turn the tides!!” Eowyn cried, clinging to mad hope. Maybe she could mend the Elden Ring and fix this realm somehow. Even in her mind she knew the thought was futile.

“The tides have come and gone, lambkin.” Varre replied carelessly. Eowyn in her dejected state failed to notice him step closer. Silently the Bloody Finger approached until his hand gripped Eowyn’s shoulder to spin her around. Eowyn gasped as something sharp and jagged pierced her bare stomach. Varre drove the blade deeper still, then brought his cold, blank mask to her ear.

“And now you’ve washed back up here, to die nameless, without ceremony.” He whispered maliciously, his voice a honeyed caress on her face even as he ripped the toothed dagger violently from her torso. Eowyn's lifeblood surged across Varre’s already rust spotted robes as she fell backward in agonizing shock. Varre shuddered in ecstasy as the hot, crimson liquid splashed over his white, expressionless guise. He perched over her wasted form as Eowyn bled into the dirt.

“You should have stayed maidenless, lambkin. Now I simply must find that dear girl, and when I do, I’m going to make sure you regret returning here! I want to hear her sweet screams before I slit her throat!” Varre, now fully unhinged, ranted from above Eowyn. His fist gripped her hair and exposed her own neck to his bloodstained dagger.

Eowyn called upon the last vestiges of her vitality and attempted to roll away from the white masked killer looming over her. She pushed Varre away with one arm and tumbled across the ground in the other direction. Eowyn rolled into a crouch opposite the Grace from Varre, whose robes were dripping with her blood. In his fist now was a bouquet of deceptively beautiful flowers, each sharpened to a razor point.

The unarmored Tarnished woman backed away from her slowly advancing death, her eyes wild as she searched for an escape. Daring to run, Eowyn bounded away from the Site of Grace in no clear direction, Varre leisurely followed, clearly enjoying the chase.

In her panicked state Eowyn struggled to wonder where her armor and weapons were. In previous cycles she would appear fully equipped with all her belongings except the Elden Ring’s Great Runes. What has changed?

Then Eowyn realized something as she dashed over a group of boulders. Varre never knew about her maiden. Eowyn dealt briefly with Varre in a foregoing life, wishing to assist him in some way before truly understanding how he only cared about his blood drunk Lord and murdering other Tarnished. Yet never had she introduced Melina to him, nor had she ever told him she acquired a finger maiden.

Eowyn spun around to face the white masked man, the pain in her pierced stomach all but gone. Varre paused in his pursuit, silent but with wariness in his stance.

“Thou art not White-Masked Varre. Unveil thyself forthwith!” Eowyn called out to the killer in front of her. She searched within and focused her power. In a shimmer of gold Eowyn was bedizened with her resplendent Veteran Armor, gripping Rellana’s Twin Swords in her hands. The Tarnished woman had fully discerned that she must be dreaming in the Fade.

“Oh, you’ve done well to figure it out,” Varre snidely applauded her, his voice shifting from a reedy drawl to something deeper and unnaturally sinister. Eowyn dipped into a stance, her swords blazing with crimson fire and blinding light respectively.

The thing that was once Varre belted out a feral howl as its body morphed from the blood stained man to a malformed Despair Demon. Its overarching teeth created a grotesque mask of bone over where its face should be and its body was cloaked in a dark and frayed hood. The demon kneaded its peeling, clawed hands together, hunched and guarded as it observed Eowyn take complete control of her mind and surroundings.

“Tis not my destined path!” Eowyn cried, her emboldened heart battling against the despondency of the demon and her surrounding nightmare. The spirit of despair seethed at her obstinacy and attacked with ice forming on its claws. Eowyn’s blades blurred as she planted her brightly armored feet, her right handed sword slashing magic bolts of light at the fiend. The cuts drew deep, and the demon shouted in agony. It lunged at Eowyn just as she shifted her stance, and her fire wrought blade cleaved into the demonic spirit with scorching crimson flames. Pillars of fire burst from the ground around the Tarnished warrior, burning the demon to ash.

Eowyn gazed down at the remains of the demon before turning to observe the Fade around her. Even as she watched, the world of dreams changed and transformed. Time seemed to rewind as the Church of Elleh’s stone walls miraculously melded back into a familiar yet still ruinous state. The Breach above shimmered out of existence and the stormy, overcast sky suddenly appearing caused Eowyn to blink at its vibrancy. Limgrave became its true nature again.

Eowyn willed her blades away and concentrated on a completely different area to rest. In a muted flash Eowyn was swept to the calming Site of Grace near the junction of Altus Highway. The patrolling soldiers were once again absent and the Erdtree stood in its fiery majesty even as its burning branches wafted ash through the air. Eowyn sat down and allowed the soothing light of Grace to suffuse her being. For a long while she rested there, hale and whole, gazing downward and seeing nothing.

A shimmer of blue lights conveyed the arrival of another, yet Eowyn unheeded the sound. She wondered how much of what she had seen would truly come to pass, and what was wrought by that demon and the Fade. Her left hand seemed to burn with the Anchor’s scar, and Eowyn felt her first regret since leaving the Lands Between.

How dare she abscond the very concept of the Laws and Principles of an entire realm for herself? How dare one Tarnished escape and leave the whole of her world on the precipice of ruin? And her biggest regret, how dare she wish for peace and a life free of turmoil when her very nature of being Tarnished demanded strife?

Eowyn’s regretful thoughts were interrupted by a slender hand reaching for her own. The relaxing heat emanating from Melina’s scarred fingers couldn’t be replicated by just any spirit, and Eowyn turned to regard her beloved kindling maiden. Melina’s face was blank, but her lips were raised minutely upward. Her golden eye scorched Eowyn’s insides and the Tarnished wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her maiden and weep.

“My dear Tarnished,” Melina uttered softly, one of her warm hands holding Eowyn’s and the other reaching to cup her cheek. Eowyn leaned desperately into the touch, siphoning the warmth and comfort her maiden shared freely.

“My beloved maiden. Thou appear before me anew.” Eowyn whispered, peering into Melina’s tender, flaxen eye. Her kindling maiden searched Eowyn’s gaze, seeking something hidden behind her tempestuous azure eyes. The Tarnished was again shown to Melina as a phantom, as if a gossamer screen was pressed against her form that made fine details seem blurred.

“It is you who appears before me. You travel here in your dreams, but in doing so, your dreams affect the world.” Melina’s hand never left Eowyn’s face as her golden eye smoldered. “This may be the Lands Between as you remember it. Yet now, darkness creeps over all places, and the borders of the land are slowly assaulted by a shadowy, crystal substance that erases everything it touches.”

Eowyn shot up in alarm and looked down at Melina, confusion and disquiet on her face. She then focused on her surroundings fully and attempted to reflect the Altus Plateau’s true nature. Gradually the scene around Eowyn changed as if a shadowy fog rolled in and submerged the land in near complete darkness. The ground below the Tarnished, once covered in yellow grass and stone, was black and misty. Eowyn looked toward the Erdtree and was dismayed. The fog obscured even the Erdtree’s light.

“Doth this realm present itself in such a dire state, for truth?” Eowyn wondered, then turned to Melina. “Thou must flee from this peril!”

“I can see the divide of our worlds.” Melina continued, moving to stand close to Eowyn. “You are far away now, and a barrier between us hinders my path.”

“Verily, 'tis a delicate web over the land they dost name the Veil. It parts the realm of dreams and magic from their mortal domain, Thedas.” Eowyn explained, still unsettled by the dark that suffused the atmosphere. Solas told her some of the Fade, but now she cursed herself for not asking more.

Melina quirked her head to the side, puzzled by this other world. Thedas sounded much different from the Lands Between with just the Veil alone. Her open eye concentrated on the Tarnished woman next to her, squinting slightly through the darkness. Eowyn pulled out her belt lantern from nowhere and settled it on her hip. The meager light was warm and cast soft shadows across the gloom. Melina’s lips lifted at the gesture, an ephemeral smile ghosting past them.

“A chasm doth mar the Veil, spreading monsters and demons into that world. And I possess the sole means to seal it forthwith.” Eowyn raised her left hand and presented the scar of the Anchor. “Thedas folk named yon chasm the Breach, and tis mark on mine hand, the Anchor.”

Melina was gripped with shock. Eowyn, her Tarnished, had already been shackled by a new peril in this world. Would this mean returning to save the Lands Between from darkness would be dooming Thedas to this chasm and demons?

The kindling maiden supposed she should be angry at her Tarnished for causing the world’s destruction, even unintentionally. However, if what Eowyn said was true, it could change the circumstances of that destruction. If Eowyn was trapped in a circle of meeting her, gaining the Great Runes, burning the Erdtree and sitting on the Elden Throne before starting over again, then it seemed the Lands Between was already caught in a slow, endless entropy of its own making.

Melina knew going with the Tarnished to this other world Thedas was a betrayal of the highest order. Leaving the Lands Between to be consumed by darkness was the ultimate cowardice, and the maiden’s conscience lashed her with guilt. Nonetheless Melina felt there was no path ending with true peace. If Eowyn returned somehow to the Lands Between with the Elden Ring, she would doom this Thedas to be swallowed by the Breach that was subjected upon their world. And by leaving the Lands Between forever, she seals its fate to the dark and nothingness.

“A notion hath taken root in mine mind, one most viable.” Eowyn went on after a pause, pulling Melina from her anxious reverie. “If the Veil be that which doth hinder thy passage to mine presence, then seek the Breach, and perchance I may aid thee in crossing it.”

Melina stepped away from the Tarnished in surprise, obscuring herself in the pitch around them. That idea sounded ruinous. The Breach seemed a malevolent thing, and giving herself to it willingly was unacceptable.

“You would have me swallowed by that rift?” Melina asked in a low voice, her gold eye gleaming in the shadows. Eowyn walked forward to bring light to her fair maiden, and to explain fully.

“Nay, my fair Melina! The rift doth pose no peril to thee. I possess dominion o'er the Breach, and once thou dost emerge, I shall close it forthwith..” Eowyn told the reddish haired spectral woman, and closed in to bathe her in the light of the belt lantern. Melina’s lovely yet shadowed face continued to look apprehensive.

“Grasp mine hand, I will reveal unto thee where the Breach might be found in the Fade.” Eowyn said, presenting her hand that held the scar. Melina hesitated only a moment before putting her hand on Eowyn’s.

The world around them blurred, brightening instantly and swirling with color. When the scene settled, the two women were at the epicenter of the Breach in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Chunks of red lyrium burst through the crumbled stone of the temple, and the Breach high above gazed down ominously even in its restraints. Melina looked about her rapidly, taking in all new sights.

Melina’s eye scoured the Breach, focusing on its location in the massive, impossibly thin, clothlike Veil that encompassed this world and her Tarnished. The maiden felt a faint pull from the threatening rift above her. The red stones jutting from the ruins assaulted her ears with a faint yet caustic melody. Melina’s slight hands rose to cover her ears from the sound. The overwhelmed maiden didn’t realize her eyes were squeezed shut until Eowyn’s armored hand touched her.

Eowyn felt the frisson of something watching her. She pulled Melina behind her back with her left hand and willed the Bloodhound’s Fang into her right. She backed into the temple wall unmolested by red lyrium and sensed for the invader. Slowly, from behind a stone archway strode a great dark wolf, its six intelligent eyes trained on the pair. Eowyn readied her blade, though a flicker of recognition passed through her and the wolf. This was the same spectral animal that scared away that demon from her first dream in the Fade.

The beast crouched warily, hackles raised, growling. The Tarnished did not let down her guard and after a tense moment, the wolf pounced. Eowyn quickly held Melina close and performed a Bloodhound’s Step to evade the large wolf’s attack. The Tarnished let go of her maiden and pressed her into a small corner of the ruins while keeping her eyes on the growling wolf before her.

Eowyn flashed forward, using another Bloodhound’s Step to get in close. The Tarnished fought the great, many eyed canine like it were the Red Wolf of Radagon that guarded the Raya Lucaria Academy. She darted in, swinging her curved blade at an angle, slashing at the undefended points of the wolf’s flank. The wolf howled and swept the wind around them into a gale that nipped and buffeted Eowyn fiercely. She switched her weapon to the Smithscript Cirque and rapidly threw them into the tempest. The Wolf loped away from the flying blades and charged to bite at the Tarnished. The wind seemed to follow the beast in its strike against her.

Eowyn instantly called her blades to return, and banished them in favor of Vyke’s War Spear. She dodged the beast’s lunge and glanced at Melina. A strange guilt filled her as she prepared to wield the Frenzied Flame near one so vehemently against its power. Her maiden was staring at the scene, her gold eye filled with trepidation even as she grasped a dagger in both hands. As Eowyn’s gaze flicked to her maiden, Melina suddenly stood and held out her hands. Golden light spread from her and rushed toward Eowyn, suffusing her with vitality and healing any wounds. Eowyn beamed gratefully at her beloved, getting a resolute nod in return.

Eowyn locked her gaze back to the wolf and leaped. The great wolf leapt in tandem, its fanged maw poised to crush her. Eowyn’s spear dug into the open mouth of the dark wolf and dragged it down to the ruined stone below, yellow flame bursting into its gullet. Eowyn heard a high pitched whine as the flames licked at the black canine’s fur, spreading its maddening fire. Eowyn poised to stab the beast again, yet before she could attempt, the Wolf vanished in a shower of light and wind.

The Tarnished kept her guard up, searching the surroundings for a sneak attack. After a long moment, she relaxed and looked back at Melina. The women reached each other and scanned for injuries. Eowyn banished her spear and scowled. The wolf was not dead so this area was still dangerous.

“That wolf may be a guardian of sorts for this realm.” Melina guessed. Eowyn supposed that description fit the beast. Eowyn wondered if she would have to battle it again, as seemed the usual case with guardians meeting a Tarnished like her. The maiden returned her eyes to the Breach and Eowyn followed her gaze.

“We don’t have much time. I will wait for you to escort me across this rift.” The kindling maiden said resolutely, then grasped Eowyn’s helmeted head in her hands. Eowyn looked down at her tenderly and her horned helmet vanished, allowing Melina to touch her face unimpeded. The two searched each other’s eyes unspeaking for but a moment. Seconds stretched their hold over time to allow the pair to remain together just that much longer. Eowyn tried to convey her devotion through eye contact alone before she felt her true body stir from the dream.

“I shall deliver thee hither, my fair maiden.” She called before her vision left her.

-

Eowyn woke to the rushed cajoling of Cassandra’s cold, gauntleted hands against her unclothed back. The Tarnished gasped at the touch and spun to grasp the Seeker’s hands with her own. She glared at the unrepentant woman squatting in her tent and rousing the opening to let in the brightening morning light.

“I slumber no longer, Seeker!” Eowyn growled and released Cassandra’s hands. The Seeker’s expression didn’t change but there was a spark of humor in her eye as she got up and exited the tent.

“You are the last one awake. It is dawn. We must return to Haven.” Cassandra called behind her shoulder. Eowyn left the tent, a hand sweeping her colorless hair from her face. She willed the Veteran’s armor to equip itself to her body and it was so. Looking about the campsite she saw her other companions near the horses, saddling them and undertaking the usual horse care. Solas strapped his saddle to his horse and peered at Eowyn, his gait lingered with fatigue yet his grey eyes were alert and unreadable.

The Tarnished whistled for her Spectral Steed and Torrent appeared before her instantly. Cassandra twitched from where she saddled her own horse, still uneasy around her spirit mount. Eowyn fed Torrent a Rowa raisin and brushed his shaggy mane with her hand. After a few more preparations, the company was soon riding back to Haven.

-

The return from the Hinterlands was quick, barely half a day gone before Eowyn was jumping off Torrent in front of Haven’s stables, making her steed dematerialize into sparks of blue light. The stable hand, a boy with watery eyes in a thin jacket, fell backward with a frightened yelp, believing Torrent was about to run him down. Eowyn recoiled in chagrin and cursed before running to the boy’s side.

“Alas! I beseech thine forgiveness! Pray, art thou unharmed?” Eowyn cried, helping the boy up and looking him over. The poor stable hand looked up, went red in the face and started sputtering, being this close to the Herald of Andraste for the first time overloading his brain. Eowyn pressed a gold royal into his hand and closed his fingers around it with a smile. She helped the boy up and then moved on to the Chantry.

There seemed to be a burgeoning riot outside its doors, with mages and templars yelling at each other and nearly coming to blows. As Eowyn came closer she heard some words being shouted back and forth. A templar, face red with anger, was yelling at a blue robed mage at the center of a crowd divided between armor-wearing swordsmen and the robed magic users. Already one templar pushed a mage back, while another mage readied their staff with a glowing spell.

“Your kind killed the Most Holy!” The red faced templar shouted into the crowd of magic users. The mage in front of him looked outraged.

“Lies! Your kind let her die!” The mage cried, pointing an accusing finger at the templar. Eowyn saw Commander Cullen striding swiftly toward the group just as the templar started to finger the hilt of his blade.

“How dare you!” The templar exclaimed, and his hand made a fist around his weapon. Commander Cullen jumped in between the arguing pair, arms outstretched and face stern with disapproval.

“Return to your duties!” He ordered, his tone brooking no dissent. The templar looked surprised, the mage disgruntled, but both ceased their yelling. Staves were lowered and blades sheathed throughout the scattering throng as the men broke off, avoiding their Commander’s eye. Eowyn stood impressed by the respect Commander Cullen earned from his people.

“Knight Commander, I-” A templar began, but Cullen shot him an imperious glare.

“That is not my title! We are not templars, we are all part of the Inquisition!” Cullen answered, staring the man down.

“But the mages-!”

“Are a part of the Inquisition as well as you are!” Cullen cut the man off irritably. The templar turned away, cowed yet still resentful. Cullen then took notice of Eowyn and sighed.

“These scuffles have been occurring more often of late.” He lamented.

The Commander thought back on the tale Eowyn told the advisors about the warring factions in her homeland, the Lands Between. He fervently hoped this war between Mages and Templars wouldn’t escalate to something like what the Herald told them of the Golden Order and the sorcerers of Caria. Or even worse, Radahn and Malenia and what Eowyn said they did to that land she called Caelid.

At that moment Chancellor Roderick stepped up beside Eowyn, an ingratiating smile on his face. Cullen scowled instinctively at the arrival. The Chancellor, for all his support for the Herald, still had no love for the Inquisition and attempted to obstruct progress with the Chantry at every turn. The Commander had half a mind to throw the man out of Haven if he didn’t know the Chancellor would make himself a martyr of some sort because of it. Having a voice of the Chantry supporting the Herald was one thing, that voice being the oily simpering of Chancellor Roderick was another.

“My Lady Herald, I have done the utmost to bring order to this growing concern within this gathering they are calling the Inquisition. However, as you can see, tensions are rather high between mages and templars. ” The Chancellor proclaimed in an affectedly coy voice, rubbing his hands together furtively. Eowyn ignored how the man’s eyes scraped across her form, and was glad she was wearing armor.

Commander Cullen glanced at the Chancellor incredulously then back at Eowyn. “The mages and templars are already at war, now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.”

“Which is why we need a proper authority to guide them.” Chancellor Roderick interrupted, then turned back to Eowyn. “With the Chantry on your side, I’m sure the Herald of Andraste would be able to bring this rebellion under heel.”

“The Inquisition is not a rebellion.” Cullen ground out through gritted teeth. Chancellor Roderick raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh? Then what is it, Commander?” Chancellor Roderick shot back. Cullen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Eowyn stepped in between the two and addressed the Chancellor.

“Dost thou need provoke our valiant Commander thus? So too doth he hath faith in me, prithee remember, fair Chancellor.” Eowyn chastised the clergyman, but Roderick brushed it off even as his cheeks went pink.

“And yet he wishes to sweep the murder of the Divine under the rug and deny the Chantry justice.” The Chancellor countered.

“That is not true! We just don’t believe the Herald was responsible!” The Commander denied hotly.

“Be that as it may” Roderick responded. “There must be a trial lest we float the Chantry’s authority.”

“The Chantry has no authority until a new Divine is chosen!” Cullen shot back. Roderick looked contrite for a moment.

“In due time. Andraste will be our guide.” The Chancellor replied then his simpering smile was back for Eowyn. “If you need assistance readying yourself for Val Royeaux, please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He offered with an unctuous leer.

“You have my thanks for thy generous offer, fair Chancellor. Alas, a pilgrimage to Val Royeaux doth seem far off at this hour.” Eowyn replied with a bright smile, her shining white teeth on display. Chancellor Roderick’s leer became a bit fixed, his eyes glossy, before he seemingly reset, bowed slightly to the Herald and backed away.

As the Chancellor left, Cullen chuckled quietly next to her. “You really got him wrapped around your finger, Herald.” He commented, grinning. Eowyn matched his grin and winked.

“One cleric doth fall under mine charms, yet all of Val Royeaux remains to conquer.” She replied. Cullen sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

“Here’s hoping you can charm them all like the Chancellor then, eh?” Cullen said, then grimaced and scratched the back of his neck. “I can't believe I just said that.”

Eowyn laughed lightly before setting off toward the Chantry War Room with Cullen in step beside her.

Chapter Text

Eowyn and Cullen entered the War Room of Haven’s Chantry and found Cassandra already there conversing with Ambassador Josephine and Spymaster Leliana. Eowyn smiled at the women before looking over the large map of Ferelden on the table. She focused on the Hinterlands and where the map marked Redcliffe, knowing she personally would need to be the one to stop the mage and templar fighting after sealing the Breach. But will her advisors agree with her methods?

In the Lands Between, Eowyn would just go to each base and eradicate everything in the area. You cannot have a war if there is no one alive to fight in it. However, these people weren’t like the enemies she faced in the Lands Between. They had lives and families that cared about them. It was war, but it was different from the undead stalemates that plagued her home land.

In that short trek into the Hinterlands, Eowyn found notes in abandoned campsites and hastily scribbled letters in hollow caves written by, and addressed to both mages and templars among others. Some pleading for the acceptance of lovers, others missing their siblings, or mourning their sons. The Herald had to find a solution to this war that required the least amount of bloodshed, lest there be no end to this strife.

Depending on how the templars and the rebel mages regard her as the Herald, the Inquisition could gain a foothold in a way to stop this pointless fighting. Eowyn wanted to find the new leaders of the factions and see if they were amenable to a ceasefire. And if they were not, Eowyn would defeat them in combat and gain the loyalty of the Mages and Templars her own way.

“Pray, who seized the mantle of leadership o'er the Order of Templars after the Conclave’s tragedy?” Eowyn asked, ending her quiet contemplation that so captured the other people in the room. She didn’t notice their silence until her query echoed off the stone walls.

“Lord Seeker Lucius Corin.” Cassandra answered automatically. “He is a reasonable man I believe, though I had not spoken to him for some time.” Cassandra looked upset admitting this, and Eowyn wondered if the Seeker felt like she was betraying her Order by forming the Inquisition.

“My contacts say he should be in Val Royeaux,” Leliana continued the thread of conversation. “I had not heard anything of him leaving yet. If we send a representative to speak with him…”

“Having the Herald address them personally could be to our advantage.” Josephine added, looking at Eowyn with a welcoming smile on her lips and an evaluating glint to her eyes.

“That could be dangerous for her.” Cullen warned.

“Right now is the perfect time to appeal to the clerics that are not unified against the Herald.” Josephine defended her plan.

“The Templars are not as toothless as the Chantry.” Cullen called back.

“What do you think, Eowyn?” Leliana asked, turning to the Tarnished and bringing her into the discussion fully. Eowyn regarded her advisors for a moment. Cassandra reminded her a night ago not to be thoughtless in her involvement in this war.

“Mother Giselle hath conveyed that the good folk of the Chantry art afeared and at odds in their regard for me. Should I present unto them a glimmer of hope, they shall surely heed my words.” The Tarnished replied, an optimistic grin on her face. Leliana became thoughtful at that, but Josephine seemed more agreeable.

“What would you do to present that glimmer of hope?” Leliana pressed, unsatisfied.

“Mayhap close yon Breach, I trow naught else shall burgeon hope so fain.” Eowyn said with a shrug that rustled her shaggy cape.

“Then we should prepare you for travel to Val Royeaux soon enough.” Josephine announced with a radiant smile, clapping her hands. Eowyn smiled with her before remembering her dream and the fate of the Lands Between. Her smile swiftly became a frown of anxiety.

“Verily, I must seal the Breach ere I embark upon my quest. The Anchor doth possess ample might without the aid of mages or Templars.” The Tarnished woman raised her left hand palm outward, banishing her gauntlet and presenting the faded Anchor scar.

Josephine gasped, peering at the Anchor’s altered nature in shock. Leliana’s eyes narrowed at Eowyn’s hand and Cullen looked relieved, if a bit surprised. None of them thought the Herald would collect the needed power so quickly except Cassandra, who regarded the Tarnished proudly.

“Well, that changes things.” Cullen said after a startled silence.

“Why is the Anchor so faded now? Last time you showed it to us it covered your hand and looked a lot more… green.” Josephine asked, her prim eyebrows pinched together in confusion. The mark on Eowyn’s hand was faint and pale. It looked more like an old burn wound than the powerful link to the Fade it was.

“Upon mine merging of the Anchor with the Great Runes of the Elden Ring, the sigil did wane into the visage thou beholdest now.” Eowyn explained.

“What do you mean by merging the Anchor with your Great Runes? How is that possible?” Leliana questioned next. There was curiosity in her voice in place of the usual reservation.

“The Elden Ring doth rule the Laws and Principles of the realm. I grasped the Great Runes of Holding and Perfect Order to fasten the mark to mine own essence.” Eowyn attempted to explain the process but couldn’t put into words what it meant to seize a Great Rune and steer its dominion to another purpose.

“This Elden Ring seems too good to be true.” Leliana protested with a challenging eye on Eowyn. “You’re telling us you have control over all Laws of this world? What about Laws like Gravity or Death?”

“Aye, The might of the Elden Ring doth rule o’er all. Ne’ertheless, there art always a cost.” Eowyn replied, her mind on Those Who Live In Death and the Prince of Death’s corpse. Those loathsome beings exist because of Queen Marika wielding the Elden Ring to change the Laws of the realm. What might come to pass due to Eowyn’s meddling with the Anchor?

“What kind of cost?” Leliana pressed. The Spymaster wanted to know what kind of boon was before her and the Inquisition. Depending on the price the Elden Ring demands, she would like to see it used to bring about an Age of peace without the curses and blights that have plagued Thedas in times past.

“'Tis a cost none amongst us wouldst desire to endure.” Eowyn answered, unwilling to meddle with the Elden Ring as Marika did. “The Anchor hath power aplenty to seal the Breach.”

“This is a huge relief either way.” Leliana began. “Reports have been coming in by the day of more rifts and people are terrified. The only way to calm their fears is to seal the Breach. Your Anchor must be strong enough to finish this, Eowyn.”

“Prithee, I am assured.” Eowyn confirmed, a confident gleam in her eye. Then Eowyn looked at her advisors, catching their eyes with an earnest expression. “I beseech thee, my good fellows, that the words I impart unto thee be guarded in utmost secrecy. Speak not of them beyond this chamber.”

“Of course, Herald. I will make sure your secrets stay secrets.” Leliana answered quickly with a solemn nod to Eowyn. Cullen, Cassandra and Josephine followed suit, but the Ambassador was frowning. Eowyn supposed she wanted some noble to know they have such power on their side, but it was too risky to let just anyone know of the Elden Ring so soon.

“Then we must head to the Breach now.” Cassandra decided then looked to Cullen. “Commander, gather your men. We must make sure nothing lies in wait for us at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

Cullen nodded and they all left the War Room with more purpose to their strides than when they entered.

–

Eowyn stood directly below the Breach surrounded by anxious soldiers. Solas and Cassandra were beside her, anticipation and concern lining their faces. The Tarnished thought back on her dream in the Fade, and hoped Melina was free from danger. Eowyn wished she could talk to her maiden before she sealed the Breach, just to make sure Melina was where she needed to be and safe.

“Are you ready to assault the Breach, Herald?” Cassandra questioned executively. Her face could be cleaved from stone. Eowyn nodded in reply and gazed from her scarred hand to the massive rift above them. The Tarnished willed her Frenzied Flame Seal into her hand and knelt on one knee. The Golden Vow incantation burst into golden light around her, filling everyone in the vicinity with courage and strength.

“Prepare thyself Melina.” Eowyn whispered before raising her Anchored hand. She tensed, then shot out green lightning toward the looming hole in the sky. The lightning connected with the Breach and Eowyn forced more power through, causing a tempest to form around her. The Breach seemed to expand incrementally, and a spike of uncertainty pierced Eowyn’s heart. Was the Anchor working as it should? Where was Melina?

“Close it now, Herald!” Solas shouted through the wind. Eowyn glanced at him, her eyes conveying an unknown emotion, then she looked back to the Breach and willed it to close. The swirling hole in the Veil shrank, much like water draining from a hole in a basin. And when the Breach was but a pinprick high above, Eowyn heard a distant whistle. The Tarnished froze in panic, her gaze focused on a growing speck falling toward them.

“Something is falling from the Breach!” Cassandra shouted, looking up at the sky.

“Melina!” Eowyn cried, clearly seeing her beloved maiden falling from the closing Breach even from such heights. The kindling maiden’s reddish-blond hair whipped across her face as she fell, her arms spread out before her. Eowyn cut off her connection with the rift, causing a shockwave that threw everyone to their backs. Melina spun away from the Breach’s explosive final moments, dodging the waves of magic high in the air.

Eowyn shot out her right hand, willing her Twinblade into her grip then ran toward one of the towering red lyrium stone chunks that jutted out from the epicenter of the Breach’s initial explosion. The Tarnished jumped onto the crimson stone and ran up its length before activating the Aspect of the Crucible Wings she enchanted into her double bladed weapon. Shining, golden pinions of light appeared on Eowyn’s back as she leaped skyward.

The soldiers below marveled as the Herald of Andraste became a luminescent angelic figure right before their eyes. Eowyn soared higher and higher desperately, clinging to her Ash of War’s power as she flew to her maiden’s outstretched hand. Eowyn fought against the rushing wind, her resplendent wings and rippling direwolf cape spread out behind her.

Eowyn’s fingers grasped for Melina’s, and slipped past them in the gale. The Tarnished Herald’s blue eyes were at their widest as she screamed her maiden’s name against the wind. Melina fell in the air right past her, and Eowyn flapped the wings of the Crucible once more to descend. Eowyn’s marked hand reached as far as she could go as she fell. Then, finally, she gripped her beloved’s arm and pulled her into an embrace.

Eowyn slowed their drop, golden wings flared out behind her back. Her eyes were only for Melina as they glided softly back toward the ground. Melina caught her gaze and kept it, displaying wonder and admiration openly on her face.

“You returned to me.” Melina’s dusky voice murmured in Eowyn’s ear, her flaxen eye glassy with emotion. Eowyn’s tender cerulean eyes promised her maiden an eternity of devotion as they memorized every detail of Melina’s features.

Her maiden seemed more real than she had ever appeared in the Fade dreams where they would meet. Melina’s red-blond hair whipped about her blushing face, and her open gold eye was bright and shining. Even the mark covering her left eye seemed more visceral, like it was just created.

As the pair descended in each other’s arms, there was a great disturbance from the newly closed Breach. Eowyn spun in the air, her white hair blitzing about her face as she beheld a massive Pride demon materialize from the Breach’s last echo. The hulking fiend of audacity roared cruel laughter as it rushed in the air after them.

Eowyn couldn’t hear what was being said below, but Cassandra looked to be ordering the soldiers to close ranks and get ready to battle the falling demon. The Tarnished was set to defend them even as she glided downward.

Eowyn held Melina close with her left hand and brandished the Twinblade in her right. The Herald of Andraste birled toward the Pride demon, spinning her blades and clashed mightily with its claws. Sparks splashed from her Twinblade, and the brilliant wings on the Herald’s back shed a few golden pinions as she broke away.

The demon screeched before summoning multiple orbs of lightning that sped toward the Herald. Eowyn’s wings ruptured into a shower of gold light that swirled around her as she dipped and veered away from the attacks. The Tarnished cursed, her Ash of War lost his power and her wings vanished, leaving the pair to fall ever faster to the destroyed center of the ancient temple below.

Eowyn spun her Twinblade with her right hand before her to deflect one of the electric orbs, then leaned toward the pursuing demon that was approaching closer every second. Blades clashed against voltaic claws again, and Eowyn moved to stab the titanic demon’s heart. The demon bellowed in pain and Eowyn planted her feet upon the fiend’s torso while digging her blade deeper into the demon’s chest. Her long fur cape purled and spun behind her, the attached red hooded cloak flying about wildly. The brilliantly armored Tarnished activated her Ash of War yet again, the demon’s front serving as a grounding floor even as they were airborne.

Resplendent wings burst from the Tarnished, her Twinblade a line of sunlight piercing the demon of audacity, and her left arm a vice around Melina. The Maiden held onto her Tarnished tightly and observed the battle in free fall.

Eowyn guided her flight from above the demon now, her Twinblade steering their descent even as she stabbed its heart. The proud spectre conjured a whip of lightning in its fall, flailing its sting at Eowyn. The Tarnished pulled her blade out of the fiend’s chest with a kick, flipped behind her with wings fanned outward, and skidded across the temple stone as she landed.

The demon crashed into the ground at peak velocity, dust and smoke billowing from the crater it made. Cassandra, Solas and the soldiers rallied with the Herald of Andraste against the Pride demon as it struggled to rise.

“Attack it now! Kill it before it gets back up!” Cassandra ordered her men before rushing forward to do the same. Solas cast a shield on everyone present, then spared a glance toward Eowyn. She was placing the woman she saved on the ground and dusting herself off, seemingly unharmed. The hedge-mage marvelled at what she just accomplished, then focused on what must be done next. He readied a spell of ice and brandished his staff.

The Herald of Andraste willed her Twinblade to vanish before calling for her Giant Crusher. The gargantuan hammer appeared and Eowyn wielded the heavy weapon effortlessly. She focused her strength and leapt forward in a frontflip. The centrifugal force of the Giant Crusher slammed into the demon as it began to stand, striking its head and bringing the spectre of Pride face first back to the ground. Eowyn recalled the Ash of War and shone brightly with Royal Knight’s Resolve. The Tarnished prepared a mighty attack with her hammer, and spun before catching the demon with a two handed upward strike.

The Pride demon flew backward and crashed devastatingly into a spike of crimson lyrium. Shards of red lyrium scattered in every direction along with chunks of stone and debris, but the demon did not rise again. Its body faded and burst into ash that flew away with the rushing wind.

Eowyn searched around the destroyed temple-turned-battlefield to see Melina standing in the epicenter of the area, near a ruined statue of Andraste, her face blank. The Tarnished rushed to her maiden and looked her over for injuries. Melina’s keen golden eye did the same, and she raised one burned hand to touch Eowyn’s cheek. The white haired woman put her hand over Melina’s and her blue eyes bored into the maiden’s gold.

“I shall never leave thy side, I swear it.” Eowyn pledged resolutely. Melina smiled and her thumb brushed her Tarnished beloved’s lips. The maiden looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes, but her lips were turned up in a coy smile.

“I shall hold you to that oath, my Tarnished.” The kindling maiden replied in her dusky voice.

“Stand away from it, Herald!” Cassandra’s alarmed voice rang out suddenly. Eowyn jumped and looked toward the Seeker in confusion. The dark haired warrior’s face was set in a distrusting scowl, her weapon was unsheathed and pointed at Melina.

“Fair Cassandra, sheathe your sword. Behold, tis Melina, mine esteemed finger maiden.” Eowyn said calmly, but she pushed Melina gently behind her back. The Tarnished knew Cassandra would not understand Melina’s presence, just as she bucked against the arrival of Torrent.

“That is a spirit that escaped the Fade through the Breach. It is dangerous.” Cassandra replied stonily. She recognized the name from the Herald’s story she told the advisors, but seeing the woman before her was something else entirely. The Seeker knew that none came out of the Fade but spirits and demons. She needed to know which kind this one was before it harmed the Herald.

“Verily, Melina art no demon, Seeker!” Eowyn shouted in defense. Her blue eyes blazed with a hot fire, and her stance was crouched before Melina, and wary. The light and relieved energy closing the Breach created vanished, replaced by a tense, cautious atmosphere. The Seeker watched the Herald and the woman behind her vigilantly through narrowed eyes, waiting for the eventual unmasking.

The soldiers behind Cassandra were at a loss. They knew they must defend the Seeker and fight against demons and shades, but the Herald of Andraste just saved them from the Breach. Then she fought a Pride demon on the way down after saving that girl! The soldiers didn’t want to be forced to come to blows against such a warrior if they could help it.

“It just came from the Breach! I’ve seen this kind of thing happen before, Herald.” Cassandra explained, her sword still raised toward Melina. “Demons can deceive you. They can look like your friends and loved ones.”

“I am not a demon, nor am I a shade.” Melina said softly, walking out from behind Eowyn. The kindling maiden was burned and bodiless in the Lands Between, able to disappear and reappear at will among other talents but she also could not travel freely unless near her Tarnished or a Grace. In that way, Melina is no different from a spirit.

“Yet you do not deny that you are a spirit.” Solas interjected from across both Cassandra and Eowyn. The hedge-mage’s expression was as aloof as ever, yet Eowyn saw interest in his grey eyes. Melina’s lips thinned as she regarded the tall elf.

“I am not of the same Wyrd as those in the Fade.” Melina countered in a low voice. “Though I am bodiless, I am of my own mind and not influenced by human emotion or memories.” Spirits of the Fade are strongly influenced by the emotions and dreams of people. If they are forced to experience something contrary to their nature they will become a demon. If Melina were a spirit of the Fade, she may have become a demon the moment she reunited with her Tarnished after she disappeared from the Lands Between

“Pray, sheathe thy sword, Cassandra!” Eowyn cried, eyes on the Seeker’s raised blade. Eowyn clenched her right hand in anticipation. Unbidden, Eowyn’s thoughts went to Iron Fist Alexander, a jolly living jar warrior she encountered throughout her journeys in the Lands Between. Eowyn would proudly call him a friend, yet he would always end his life the same way, by challenging her to a duel to the death.

Fighting her friends was anathema to the Tarnished, and Eowyn was heartbroken by being eye to eye with the killing end of Cassandra’s sword. The Seeker looked conflicted and angry, but then placed her sword back in its sheath with a heavy sigh.

“Forgive me Eowyn, and you Melina. We should be celebrating, not at each other’s throats. Come, let us leave this evil place.” Cassandra said, her voice carrying too much duty and too little rest. Eowyn smiled at the Seeker, then nodded at Solas. Melina was here and the Breach was sealed. The time has come for revelry!

Chapter Text

The Tarnished entered Haven with Melina at her side, just as a lifting song started from the center of the village. There were people dancing and making merry, a mug of ale in hand. The hole in the sky now just a ghostly aurora. Eowyn looked around longingly at the revelry, but then settled her gaze on the flagging form of the woman beside her. Melina seemed more exhausted than before, the journey from the Breach taking its toll.

Eowyn led them to her private cabin, begging off the festivities as cheering villagers and well-wishers approached. When inside her hut Eowyn assisted Melina in unclasping her cloak and leading her to bed. When the maiden was laying on the pelt covered cot, her gold eye watched Eowyn sleepily.

“I feel different in this world, my Tarnished.” Melina’s dusky voice whispered. Eowyn grew alarmed, kneeling before her maiden with searching eyes. Melina looked lovely as she always did, though now she was more vibrant and solid. Her hair that always appeared a light pink with blond streaks throughout was now a deeper red and gold color and the paleness of her heart-shaped face gave way to a rosier complexion. Even her garments were more tangible.

“Pray tell, my fair Melina, what dost thou trow?” Eowyn asked.

“My body… it is real and whole. I feel fatigue and hunger. It is strange to feel such needs after so long as a spirit.” Melina revealed quietly to Eowyn, who was beset by awe and perplexity.

“Dost thou possess a corporeal form henceforth? Not merely an ethereal semblance?” Eowyn questioned, grasping for understanding. Melina had always been a spectral companion to Eowyn. It was one reason their relationship was so chaste, as both desired closeness yet her maiden was unable to truly feel any sensation. It was frustrating and one-sided for Eowyn, who could bask in Melina’s warmth without being able to share her own.

“Yes, no longer am I bodiless.” Melina said, laying on her back while looking at her pale hands. They appeared whole, but the burn scars remained. Her golden eye looked uncertain and held an emotion unknown to Eowyn.

Before Eowyn could find out more, she heard an alarm bell and yelling voices. Instantly, the Tarnished was alert and moving to see what happened. Melina disappeared into motes of blue light, but Eowyn felt her presence near. Even in this more human-like body, Melina appeared to have kept her spiritual talents.

Outside the cabin Inquisition soldiers were rushing past, toward the front gate. Eowyn spied Commander Cullen running in that direction and paced with him.

“Forces approaching! To arms!” He hollered then turned to Eowyn. “Oh, thank the Maker, you're not half drunk like the rest of this lot. A watchguard reports a force heading over the mountain, it’s massive.” As they ran Eowyn was joined by Cassandra, Solas and Varric. They all appeared ready for battle, though Varric looked more disgruntled by the aborted festivities than focused on fighting.

“We must get to the gates!” Cassandra shouted.

Eowyn heard some of the people of Haven call to her as she passed. Voices of panic, confusion and terrified prayer reached her ears on her way to Haven’s entrance.

“This bodes poorly.” Solas murmured from beside Eowyn. The Tarnished scowled, incensed that an army would dare attack her hold.

“It always did seem too easy.” Varric growled. “Hey Tarnished, any chance you got an army in that bag of yours?”

The party approached the barred front gate. Cullen was shouting orders at soldiers, sword in hand. Josephine was there as well, her stunning face and outfit out of place in the bustle of grim warriors. The Ambassador asked Cullen whose army was coming, and got a vague and foreboding answer. Then, there was a banging on the gates. Someone was on the other side, their voice muffled.

“Open the damn gate, I would love to not die out here after coming all this way!” A man’s voice shouted.

Eowyn gestured for a soldier to open the wooden double doors. Revealed was a tall, olive skinned man with a most striking moustache. He held a long wooden staff, marking him a mage. He looked exhausted, stumbling among the corpses of the vanguard enemies he presumably killed. Eowyn rushed to him and caught his shoulder, keeping him upright.

“I’m just a bit tired, don’t mind me.” The man supplied as Eowyn searched him for injuries. Finding none, the Tarnished let the man go and awaited his message.

“My name is Dorian Pavus, and I have bad news about the rebel mages in Redcliffe.” The man named Dorian said after dusting himself off. “You know, the army on our heels? They are being commanded by the Venatori, a cult in service to something called the Elder One. Their leader is that woman, Calpernia.”

Dorian pointed at a tall cliff a distance away where a woman with blond hair in twin buns stood overlooking Haven. She was cloaked in black, her robes dark and embossed with Tevinter stitching. She carried a long spear with a black blade in one hand.

“And that would be the Elder One.” Dorian continued grimly, as a giant stepped from behind Calpernia. His face was asymmetrical and set in a scowl full of malice. Half a robe’s hood covered his head, the other half melded to it. Chunks of red lyrium fused with his skin and his broad shoulders were coated with dark fur. His body was inhumanly tall, but emaciated, and Eowyn could clearly see exposed muscle and bone jutting out of his chest and torso.

“Lo, he doth appear most repugnant. I behold him yearning for mine blade, as though death's embrace hath already claimed him.” Eowyn murmured, nearly taken by fury as her steely eyes locked onto the monster before her.

“No, the red lyrium isn't grafted on like Godrick’s arm and legs.” A morose voice called from near Eowyn that made her anger vanish to be replaced by panic and confusion. Who would know the name of that loathsome shardbearer? The Tarnished looked around frantically and her eyes almost slid by someone right next to her before focusing on them.

It was a young man wearing a large, odd hat with a wide brim that covered his eyes. His hair was pale, as well as his skin. He wore a cowhide shirt in the Ferelden style and dark trousers with buckles along the calves. He felt to Eowyn like how Melina did in the Lands Between. As if he were projecting a tangible form instead of being truly human.

“I’m Cole. I came to warn you about the evil army but he already did.” The boy said, referring to Dorian who looked around as if he couldn’t see him. Eowyn’s lips twitched, and she nodded to the young man.

“Where did he come from?” Varric suddenly said, as if he just noticed Cole was there. Cassandra watched Cole warily as well and Eowyn knew she figured he was a spirit.

“My thanks, valiant Cole. What manner of knowledge hath thou of the name of Godrick?” Eowyn asked, wondering if this boy may hail from the Lands Between like her. Did other spirits escape the Breach along with Melina?

“There’s no time to explain right now. Too many red templars want to hurt you and they’re close.” Cole replied and Eowyn shook away thoughts of her erstwhile home. She looked to Cullen and shot him a mien of sincere confidence. The Commander appeared more heartened as he surveyed his soldiers.

“Haven is not a fortress. We have to control the battle here if we want to stand against that monster. Get to the trebuchets and crush them in an avalanche.” Cullen said to Eowyn. The Herald nodded and willed the Sacred Relic Sword into her waiting hand. In her other, the Golden Order Seal appeared. She addressed the men standing by the entrance awaiting their fate with a clear voice ringing like a Chantry choir.

“Take heart, for I shall be the radiant beacon that dispels the shadow! Harken to mine call, brave souls! Let us charge forth into valorous combat! For thine very lives!” Eowyn cried, her voice carrying over the Inquisition soldiers. The men unsheathed their blades as one, shouting their rallying cries.

The Herald of Andraste knelt, remembering the miraculous Blessings of the Erdtree, and out from her rushed a golden wave of light that spanned the whole entrypoint of Haven. Breathing came easier for the soldiers and her party, their armor and weapons lighter and any hurts soon forgotten.

Eowyn then recalled another miracle, one of the Golden Vow and raised her seal above her head. This time, the flaxen light that suffused the vanguard company strengthened their will and hardened their resolve. Soldiers would later mention that being within that miracle made them feel stronger than they’ve ever felt, as if each one of them could face the Elder One themselves. And their admiration for the Herald grew ever more.

Eowyn raced into the coming tide of rebel mages and templars, her sword wrought from the Elden Beast at the ready, and swung her blade across the menacing horizon. A Wave of Gold spread out, rushing across the snowy earth unceasing. Her enemies were thrown back from the divine swell crashing against them, holy light washing the very skin off their bones.

The Herald and her party met their enemies head on, fighting templars with red lyrium growing out of their skin and mages in dark hooded robes using all types of offensive magic. Soldiers ran to the trebuchets, manned them and prepared to aim and strike key points. The company fought any attacking foes back as they worked.

Cassandra challenged the invading force, her voice becoming a visceral roar. As templars charged, the Seeker swiftly parried, blocked and counterattacked against all their many assaults. She became a bladed whirlwind overpowering and breaking through any defenses. Battle cleared the Seeker’s mind, her steps and attacks becoming a kind of meditation that allowed her to think of other matters even as she fought.

At that moment Cassandra thought of the Herald, and the speed that she swept in, gained their trust and closed the Breach. It was as if she truly was Maker-sent. To fight beside her made Cassandra feel strong, and that she was doing good. The feeling clashed strangely with her belief in the Maker and his bride. For Eowyn was not a true Herald of Andraste, she was the bearer of something divine and alien, the Elden Ring. And every word spoken about that thing solidified the fear of it in the Seeker’s heart.

Varric continued to load, aim and fire Bianca, his rhythm broken only to relocate since the battle started. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how he got stuck in this mess and why he hasn’t gotten himself out of it yet. The dwarf thought of a tavern in Lowtown where he’d rather be, but then aimed and blasted a hole into a mage attempting to ambush Eowyn.

Oh right, because of her. Eowyn, the Herald of Andraste, or Tarnished as he called her. That woman was a story he was seeing unfold in a way that had him charging into battle just to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything. Can you blame him? Last time he took his eyes off her, she closed the Breach, fought a Pride demon in midair and came back with a cute girl on her arm. Varric didn’t want to be left out on whatever Tarnished had in store next.

Solas watched the Herald from the corner of his eye, even as he cast a blizzard to freeze several lyrium-addled templars in front of him. He followed up with an eruption of fire at their feet and wondered if he’d ever get the answers he sought from that strange otherworldly woman. Where did she really come from? How was she so strong? Who was that spirit woman that she rescued so desperately from the Breach?

The elven mage knew of her battle with the guardian spirit he recruited to watch the Breach in the Fade. To be able to fight against a stalwart spirit like that wolf and get the upper hand meant this woman, the Herald of Andraste they call her of all things, was powerful. Perhaps too powerful to be content with whatever this Inquisition was turning out to be. What would someone like her do with an army at her beck and call? Solas watched and waited, content to observe for now as the easily overlooked apostate hedge-mage.

Dorian Pavus may have just got to Haven less than an hour before, but he felt someone should have clued him in on the real details regarding this Herald of Andraste. The Tevinter mage cast a barrier around himself in time for a fireball to glance harmlessly off his skin. He then swung his staff in an arc to trap the flames and spin them back at his attacker.

Dorian watched as Eowyn leapt into the air, called forth a storm of lightning in the form of a glaive and swung it at a group of her enemies, throwing them backward. The crimson lightning continued on in a wave before her as Dorian marveled. Every Tevinter mage appreciated two things, magic and power. Dorian of House Pavus was already starting to respect this powerful magic-wielding woman.

This is overwhelming. ‘This doth bear no semblance to besieging the Capital or scaling the heights of Mt. Gelmir. These souls yet draw breath.’ The thoughts and pain of so many people, even if they’re trying to kill us, was overwhelming. ‘Protect the trebuchets!’ ‘Come on Bianca, don’t get stuck on me now!’ ‘Oh, risking my life in Ferelden of all places, where did my standards go?’ The thoughts of those around Cole swam in his mind, jumbling together and confusing him. The boy shimmered, intangible, as a templar’s sword sliced at him. It was dangerous to let his focus wander.

Cole’s daggers pierced the unheeding heart of a Venatori mage before he disappeared to stalk a red templar. When his blades slid across the neck of the surprised armored knight, Cole leapt to stab deep into the back of the next templar he saw. Cole had to fight right now. Listen to them later, if they lived.

A trebuchet went off, causing an avalanche that laid waste to the invading army. The Herald fought with her companions as the remaining enemies charged. Eowyn was a wrathful primordial force on the battlefield, her every motion bringing death to her enemies. Then she heard a loud roar of a monster familiar to her. A dragon swept into view from behind the Frostback mountains, breathing fire.

“That dread dragon shall lay waste to Haven! Make haste to the gates forthwith!” Eowyn shouted at her crew.

The Tarnished recalled the Frenzied Flame and screamed as it filled her mind and obscured her vision. Eowyn focused the chaos fire into a bolt of yellow that spiralled out of her eyes and raced toward the swooping dragon. The burst connected with the dragon’s wing and it screeched in pain, stumbling while airborne.

Eowyn ran with her companions and soldiers toward Haven’s heavy wooden doors. Cullen was ushering everyone inside hurriedly, shouting at everyone to move to the Chantry. When they all were inside and the gates were being closed, Cullen shot Eowyn a hard look.

“The Chantry is the only building that might hold against that…beast. Eowyn, can you protect Haven from that thing?” Cullen asked seriously. Eowyn nodded with no hesitation. Dragons were a terrible sight throughout the Lands Between, but Eowyn slayed all those she encountered. This drake was only truly dangerous in its potential to destroy Haven and harm her comrades. It didn’t pose as much of a threat to her personally.

The Commander gazed at Eowyn, mystified, before calling for his soldiers and making his way to the Chantry. The Tarnished and her company ran through Haven, disrupting skirmishes that were happening along the way.

“The people of Haven will not survive without our aid.” Solas claimed as they ran.

Eowyn rushed to a building with fire burning its thatched roof. Someone was screaming for help inside. Eowyn kicked the door down and saw Seggrit, the armory merchant, under a fallen bookcase. The Tarnished rushed to lift the bookcase off the man and ferry him out of the burning building.

“About time! I need to get out of here!” Seggrit groused before running in the direction of the Chantry.

The Tarnished searched every building for survivors and helped whoever she found. Lysette the quartermaster was fighting some templars defiantly but overreached, and Eowyn swept in to stab one that moved to attack.

“Thank you Herald! We need to get to the Chantry!” Lysette crowed, and retreated.

The tavern was burning and Flissa the barmaid was trapped inside. A fiery roof beam was on her leg, and the fire was getting closer.

“Help me… I can’t get it off… it hurts!” She wailed in terror. Suddenly the door crashed open and the brilliant form of the Herald of Andraste peered inside. The shining woman lifted the beam off Flissa’s leg like it weighed nothing and swooped the barmaid up into her arms.

“I knew you would come.” Flissa declared in adoration. Eowyn smiled compassionately at the woman.

“I shall ne'er abandon thee.” She told Flissa sincerely and then recalled an incantation. Erdtree Healing rushed from Eowyn into the barmaid, making her eyelids flutter as her leg was healed instantly. Flissa stared at Eowyn wonderingly, and the Tarnished let the barmaid cup her cheek.

“I should have known the Maker was a woman.” Flissa sighed. Eowyn carried her to the Chantry doors and set her down with a tender smile. Then she turned away to find more survivors, the direwolf cape of her Veteran Armor rippling behind her.

Eowyn found the Apothecary on fire with Adan and Minaeve trapped inside after helping a man named Threnn fight off some mages.

“Herald? Please help us! The pots-!” Minaeve cried when she caught sight of Eowyn.

“Watch out! The fire will make the pots blow up!” Adan said from a corner surrounded by fire.

The Tarnished looked around quickly before settling on an obscure incantation seemingly made for this moment. Her arms moved and twisted before her as Eowyn performed the Divine Beast Tornado incantation. Mighty winds swirled around her and whisked the fire about, before rushing outward harmlessly. When the tempest subsided, the Apothecary was damaged but no longer on fire. Adan and Minaeve stood nonplussed at their fortune before thanking her profusely.

“Andraste truly guides you, Herald!” Adan shouted as he escaped the building. Minaeve rushed forward to embrace Eowyn quickly before thanking her as well.

“Thank you Herald. Thank you, thank the Maker.” She cried. Eowyn gave her a soft smile, her eyes strong and kind.

“I shall e'er be by thy side, fair one.” The Tarnished declared to Minaeve, stunning her to silence. Eowyn kept with the elven woman to the Chantry, her eyes scanning for anyone in need.

“All rescued? Shall we?” Dorian asked from the Chantry doors.

“You kept them all from dying, at least today.” Cole murmured.

“Best to follow.” Solas chimed in and they all headed inside the Chantry.

Eowyn walked into the Chantry and was assaulted by the pained wailing of the injured. She moved quickly to where the wounded were held in the stone building and saw several people lined up with various injuries. Her capacity was flagging, but Eowyn had a solution.

The Tarnished willed a Starlight Shard into her hand. Everyone that could see her gasped, as it appeared the Herald was suddenly holding the night sky in her palm. Eowyn stood on her toes, reaching as high as she could before crushing the Shard in her grip. Incrementally, the Tarnished felt her capacity grow and pushed her focus back to her injured people.

She knelt before them and called upon another Erdtree Heal. As she stood, she saw the astonished faces of the clergy and the healed citizens. Eowyn gave them a bright, caring smile and walked back to her company and advisors.

Chancellor Roderick was with them, limping and holding his side, but proclaiming in a strong voice that the Chantry was safe. He lost his footing and tripped, but before he fell Eowyn was there and caught him. She helped him into a chair and looked him over. The Chancellor’s side was grievously wounded and his breathing rough.

“Prithee, good Chancellor, what dost thou seek by thy hand raised in battle?” Eowyn chastised Roderick as she knelt before him.

“Ah, Herald. You inspire us all to… do foolish things sometimes.” Roderick said, smiling as blood ran down his chin. Eowyn grimaced and cast another Erdtree Healing. The golden swirls of light healed the dying Chancellor in front of everyone’s eyes. Then Eowyn collapsed with a gasp next to him.

“Eowyn!”

“Herald!”

“What did you do to her?!”

Shouts from everyone rang out in the Chantry as Eowyn fell to the floor. Her eyes gazed forward unseeingly even when Cullen shook her shoulders and called her name. Chancellor Roderick looked terrified and immeasurably guilty, no doubt believing Eowyn traded his life for hers. His whole belief system was shaken to its core by this woman. There’s no way she could die now.

Melina appeared from a shimmer of blue mist and gently pushed Cullen aside.

“W-what?” Cullen stuttered as this woman appeared from nowhere and peered closely at the Herald. The kindling maiden cupped Eowyn’s face and willed her flask of Cerulean Tears from the nether. Cullen backed up quickly, his face guarded. Cole moved forward almost into Melina’s personal space, entranced by her presence.

Melina dipped the inexplicably full flask into Eowyn’s mouth while holding her still. Soon, Eowyn blinked and looked around curiously. When she saw Melina her face became so open and loving that several onlookers looked away in propriety, Cullen included. Then Melina pinched Eowyn's cheek hard enough to leave a mark and for Eowyn to cry out in pain.

“Be wary of your limits, Tarnished.” Melina berated in a flat voice. Eowyn rubbed her cheek and nodded, properly contrite. The maiden then disappeared yet again.

“So she’s not dead? Thank the Maker!” The Chancellor cried joyously as Eowyn stood.

“What just happened?” Varric asked, nonplussed.

“So you don’t get any of this either? I should start keeping a tally.” Dorian muttered in reply.

“Herald, we can’t keep this position.” Cullen began, back on track. “That dragon stole back the time we gained and the army just keeps advancing.”

“This Elder One seems to just take what he wants. He did with the mages in Redcliffe and now he’s here for you, Herald.” Dorian stated.

“Cometh he hither for my sake? Nay, I dost come for him. The hour hath struck for this knave to meet his doom.” Eowyn proclaimed. Her steely gaze turned to the doors of the Chantry and what lies beyond.

“We need a way out of here. Holed up in the Chantry isn’t a very good battle strategy.” Varric pointed out.

“Forsake the wyrm and the Elder One unto me, seek ye a path to salvation.” Eowyn told them resolutely. Dorian looked at her like she was crazy, but the rest of the Herald’s company was stalwart behind her.

“I know of a path out of here.” Chancellor Roderick spoke up at last. Eowyn turned to him and grasped his hands. Her blue eyes bored into his.

“Dost thou hath knowledge of an escape? For truth?” She asked excitedly. Roderick was red in the face, but nodded.

“I walked a path on a whim. It was overgrown and I didn’t even mean to tread it. But to be the only one who remembers the way after the Conclave… maybe I was meant to tell you.” Roderick explained solemnly.

“And I remain eternally grateful for thy aid in this hour, my dear Chancellor. Prithee, guide mine people.” Eowyn proposed and Roderick accepted his responsibility with grace.

“If you could turn the trebuchets, maybe an avalanche could swallow that army and hopefully the Elder one too.” Cullen said grimly. Eowyn shook her head, denying that notion at once.

“I shall not bring ruin upon the fair Haven. Nay, I shall stride forth and vanquish them all. Each templar, sorcerer, dragon, and Elder One shall be torn asunder. I shall forge armor from their very bones.” Eowyn declared with wrath upon her face, then swept away from her company and opened the Chantry doors to leave.

Chapter Text

Eowyn left Haven’s Chantry with heavy purpose. She was determined to bring this conflict to a close, and give her people time to escape. Her companions were told to stay behind to ensure the non fighters survived their secret exodus. This meant making sure this Elder One and his loathsome drake was routed or slain along with the rest of his army on her own.

Haven was a ruin, its buildings gutted by fire and the scattered military tents destroyed. The enemy vanguard did well with their torches, nothing stood whole but the Chantry. Her personal cabin had blazing flames spreading across its roof and the Tarnished was relieved none of her belongings were inside. Even still, Eowyn rushed over to put out the flames.

Melina appeared from blue mist before Eowyn in solidarity, her face and gait displeased. The Tarnished knew her expression mirrored her maiden’s. This whole day was turning to disaster. Melina wordlessly returned Eowyn’s Flask of Cerulean Tears and the Tarnished took another deep drink. She reminded herself to ask her maiden how her Flasks were full again.

The Tarnished recalled the blessings of healing and protection and was once again shimmering with a golden luminescence. She then drank from the Flask of Wondrous Physick, amazed that it was full once more with the Crimsonburst Crystal and Twiggy Cracked Tears. The tears inside provided the Tarnished with a steady stream of healing mists and secreted her runes away safely. Eowyn did not know if she would return to Thedas if she was killed or become stranded in the darkness of her ruined homeland, but at the very least her mountainous sum of runes would follow her beyond death.

Melina shared Eowyn’s blessings by proximity, and her vexed expression softened a little. Eowyn was struck with how ethereal her maiden looked beside her. The golden light rising off her accented the rosy complexion of her stunning face. Melina glanced at Eowyn and raised an eyebrow, amused that she caught Eowyn staring. Heat rushed to Eowyn’s face, but she smiled instead of looking away.

Eowyn soon whistled for Torrent so the pair could ride out of Haven toward the battlefield ahead. The Dragon’s rumbling could be heard in the distance as it searched for her, and the Herald felt the malignant presence of her Great Enemy close by. The Anchor on her hand gave a phantom sting, as if in warning. Eowyn took no heed of the mark. If this Elder One thinks he could battle against the Elden Lord, he was sorely mistaken.

Soldiers and mages jumped out of the snow encircling Eowyn and pressed their ambush with blades and magic. The Tarnished leapt into the air and Torrent vanished below her. She landed in the snow, her armored feet crunching on snow and broken tree limbs. With a spin, her Sacred Relic Blade sliced into her nearest enemies, then Eowyn rolled toward open space. She brought the great sword up to her shoulder, then swung across purposefully. Her enemies were blasted away by holy light, an ever advancing wave that condemned them to divine judgment. The Tarnished then turned as more enemies appeared and a loud voice was heard from the trees.

“HERALD OF ANDRASTE!” An armored man surrounded by enemy soldiers shouted from the top of a snowy cliff face outside of Haven. His bright armor held the Sword and Sunburst, marking him as a Templar, though his was more decorated than the templars Eowyn fought earlier. The man’s dark, shoulder length red hair whipped about his pockmarked face in the icy breeze, and his crazed vermillion eyes latched onto Eowyn as she regarded him.

“Bend thine knee and declare thy fealty to me, fallen warrior.” Eowyn called out tauntingly from her place in the snow, surrounded by dead men. A sporting grin graced her lips but her eyes were steel. The templar’s crimson eyes burned with rage and indignance from her slight, and he unsheathed his sword.

“I am Denam, Knight Captain of the true Templar Order! There is a greater power than you in this world, Herald! We will crush you for challenging the Elder One!” Knight Captain Denam bellowed from the cliff top just as a large group of templar soldiers with red lyrium stones melded into their bodies rushed out of the pines to attack.

Eowyn jumped off a giant felled tree and her essence communed with the dragon hearts she had devoured long ago. The decaying draconic phantom of Ekzykes’s head encased the Tarnished in mid air, and Scarlet Rot rushed from its maw. The advancing templars were consumed by the noxious gas, its otherworldly rot deteriorating their bodies and minds. Eowyn swept the dragon’s head across her view in an attempt to capture all her enemies in the stream.

Several shields and barriers rose in defense against the attack, and Eowyn followed up with a Wave of Gold from her Sacred Relic Sword. The surging golden wave crashed against her foes, blasting some back and breaking the barriers of others. The Tarnished rushed forward to melee with the survivors.

Knight Captain Denam yelled incoherently from his perch on the cliff before the red lyrium suffusing his body made its dramatic and monstrous appearance. The templar captain transformed grotesquely above them as Eowyn battled his subordinates with dual blades of magic and fire. The behemoth form of Denam jumped from the cliff top with a roar, landing before Eowyn in a storm of disturbed snow and debris. His body now enshrouded by red lyrium crystals, Denam’s challenging cry shook the nearby trees.

“Verily, 'tis no surprise that Varric harbored such caution toward the red lyrium.” Eowyn muttered to herself as she stared into the dying crimson eyes of a templar she impaled with her twin swords. Her focus shifted to the monstrous Denam who ran before her to attack with elongated crystalized arms. Eowyn rolled under one arm, but was backhanded by the other. The Tarnished was thrown back with a cry of pain and collided harshly with a snow covered evergreen.

Slushy ice poured down onto her as Eowyn shook the spots from her vision. She quickly moved as a crimson fist blasted a chunk out of the tree, throwing shattered pieces of bark in all directions. The Tarnished dropped into a battle stance before her towering crystalized enemy, and unleashed a whirlwind of red flames from the fire wrought blade of Rellana in her hand. Eowyn’s swords slashed against the unguarded middle of Denam as she spun, and jets of fire exploded from the ground to encircle her.

The templar-behemoth roared and smashed at the ground with red crystal club-like fists, upending snow and rocks all around him. Eowyn jumped back from the attack and called a scepter into her left hand. Lusat’s Glintstone Staff appeared, its crystal ball reflecting the surrounding chaos. The Tarnished woman screamed in fury before pointing the scepter at Denam and firing a massive Comet Azur. Waves of arcane energy poured outward and the very stars rushed forth as Eowyn’s beam of magic struck her foe. The cosmic stream wrought wisps of the night sky into a current that drove the monstrous knight captain backward. His prone body never rose again.

Eowyn stumbled backward into a tree, breathing heavily. She fished her Flask of Cerulean Tears out and gulped down the liquid inside. Her mind sharpened just in time to dodge away from an fire attack from a mage that caused the tree to explode. The wave of enemies subsided for but a moment, except one.

“Curse you, Herald!” An anguished voice cried near Eowyn. She turned to see an elf woman with staff in hand, its end still smoking from the fire magic. The woman’s eyes burned with fury and intense sorrow, and tears ran down her pale face. The woman screamed in wordless grief until her voice broke. Eowyn froze as empathy filled her heart unbidden.

“Prithee, why dost thou weep?” Eowyn found herself asking the woman even as she dodged another fireball. The Herald made her way closer to the woman while evading her desperate attacks. When she was close enough, Eowyn grabbed the elf woman’s arm, wrenched her staff from her hand and threw it behind her.

The woman’s face crumpled in desolation and she rapped her fists against Eowyn’s chestplate impotently. Eowyn gently caught the elf’s fist and the woman looked up at her with such betrayal in her eyes that the Tarnished almost gasped.

“Why didn’t you come to Redcliffe?” The woman weeped into Eowyn’s chest. “ Why didn’t you save us too? We needed you! My mages… My people will never be free now.”

“Forgive me, I know not thine name.” Eowyn told the distraught woman. Until Dorian Pavus arrived, the Herald was unaware of any problems in Redcliffe except that the Mages were based there. What could the Elder One have done to force the rebel mages and the templars under his command?

“I am Fiona, formerly Grand Enchanter, and I was the supposed leader of the mages that rebelled from the Circle.” Fiona explained between wiping at her eyes and sniffling forlornly. “I searched for you at the Crossroads but you were already gone. Now it is too late. The Venatori have my people and will never release them but through death or worse.”

“Verily, I knew not of the plight in Redcliffe e’re yon siege. I do behold that thine heart truly cherishes thy folk.” Eowyn said softly to Fiona, overcome with a sudden desire to save this woman from her enemy. “Perchance 'tis too late to rescue them hence, yet thou art not lost. If it be thy desire, I shall spirit thee away.”

Fiona was heartbroken. The elven Enchanter was torn between staying beside her people, fighting with them but being stuck in a Tevinter Supremacist cult, or trusting the word of this woman, the fabled Herald of Andraste. Her eyes closed in pain, and when she opened them, they were weary and pleading. The elf took Eowyn’s hands in her own and looked into her eyes.

“Please, help me escape from this evil. I am a wretch to abandon my people, but,” Fiona whimpered softly. “Maker, I’m so frightened of that cult and their Elder One.”

Eowyn cupped Fiona’s cheek, her blue eyes conveying compassion and mercy. “Be not afraid. For I shall vanquish that knave. Mount mine noble steed, Torrent, and thy life shall be preserved.” The former Grand Enchanter’s elven features morphed through several emotions while she basked in the healing presence of Eowyn’s blessing. Then the woman’s face melted into Eowyn’s palm and her tightly wound posture relaxed.

Suddenly Eowyn felt a piercing cold pain in her side. Fiona was pulling out a thin bloodied shard of ice from an opening in Eowyn’s armor with tears still falling from her face. She seemed surprised that she stabbed the Herald and dropped her makeshift knife of ice. The elven woman backed away regretfully as Eowyn stumbled and fell to one knee before her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! The Elder One, he’ll kill me if I don’t-” Fiona’s tearful blubbering was cut off abruptly as Melina appeared in a shimmer of blue mist behind her.

The maiden’s curved dagger skewered the elven Enchanter in the chest to the hilt. Blood mingled with tears on Fiona’s wasted face as Melina pulled her dagger out with a twist. The elven woman slowly fell to her knees, then face first into the snow never to rise again.

Melina cleaned her dagger on Fiona’s cloak and put it away, then regarded Eowyn reproachfully. “My tarnished, be wary of this realm. Betrayal comes in many forms.” Melina warned Eowyn cryptically.

Eowyn’s blue eyes were heavy with guilt as she gazed down at Fiona’s cooling body. The Tarnished fell for her act blindly, always ready to rescue a damsel. Anger flashed through her chest at the thought. This woman, this Fiona, could have lived! She could have rode away on Torrent and survived. The burning anger was short lived and left Eowyn hollow. Her blazing, compassionate heart grew a bit colder as Eowyn turned away from the foolish elven woman and towards her maiden.

“Fair Melina, this realm shall steele mine heart swifter than our erstwhile abode did ever dare.” Eowyn murmured, forlorn. Only one Tarnished, a man named Patches, ever used deceit against her instead of a head on fight. Yet even Patches didn’t cry or use a woman’s tears in any of his lies.

Melina gave Eowyn a look of understanding, and her boots made hard prints in the snow as she came to stand beside her Tarnished. “Betrayal has always existed in the Lands Between. So too did taking advantage of someone’s empathy..”

Eowyn sighed, and called for Torrent once again. The pair mounted the steed and ventured onward in the snowy terrain. Torrent jumped, and again in mid air traversing the cliffs and snow covered forest until the roar of a dragon could be heard once more. A cloud of snow and broken evergreens burst into the air a distance away from them as the dragon made its malevolent presence known.

The dragon was flying again, and caught sight of the Tarnished on her mount. Its mighty wings kicked up debris as it flew downward to spray them with fire. Eowyn guided Torrent to evade the stream of flames. The dragon whipped around in the air quickly for another attack. Eowyn jumped off Torrent and willed her massive Fingerprint Shield before her. The dragon’s onslaught of flames licked at her shaggy cape as the Tarnished was defended behind her greatshield. When the fiery assault subsided, another figure stepped forth from the flames. Eowyn watched as the Elder One strode confidently toward her. His form was twice as tall as the Tarnished, his lanky arms were longer than Eowyn’s legs. The sneer on his misaligned face pulled the side of his mouth upward unnaturally and the dark gown covering his bottom half made him appear wraith like.

“Thou foul wretch! This time, I shall vanquish thee!” Eowyn cried, her Sword of Night and Flame returning to her hand. Eowyn’s Fingerprint Shield was still covering most of her body, as the dragon landed behind the Elder One and let out an ear splitting roar. The Tarnished watched her foes warily, and they watched her in turn. The Elder One walked forward and began to speak, though his words only angered the Tarnished.

“Pretender. Your parlor tricks and archaic speech do nothing to hide the fear in your heart.” The Elder One claimed, his voice deep and treacherously smooth. “Kneel before the will that is Corypheus.”

The white hair of the Tarnished followed the icy wind’s direction across her merciless blue eyes. Her lips were pulled back in a fierce scowl. The burnished metal of her Veteran’s armor glinted in the fire and an ochre line of light slid down the magic wrought blade in her grip.

“Thou art naught but a foul beast. Tis thou who should bend thy knee before thy Elden Lord, knave.” Eowyn challenged in a clear voice devoid of any fear. The Tarnished Herald of Andraste stood tall and valiant against the looming Elder One Corypheus as fire and snow billowed behind them.

“Elden Lord? Your delusions are meaningless. I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it will begin now.” Corypheus’ voice was a tide of acid washing against a desolate beach. Its timbre made Eowyn’s hackles rise unconsciously. Corypheus brought his hand up and Eowyn noticed he was holding the same orb as that time before in the Fade. Red energy suffused the orb and he held it aloft.

Eowyn’s Anchor twinged on her left hand, but otherwise did nothing. The Elder One’s malformed scowl grew as he witnessed his plan fail. Eowyn responded with a feral grin and raised her left hand eye level. She banished her gauntlet to show Corypheus the faded scar and delighted in his rage.

“The Anchor doth belong to me. Forever entwined with mine might. Thou shalt ne'er wrest it from mine grasp.” Eowyn returned her gauntlet and got into a battle stance. The Elder One’s orb cast red lightning that highlighted the malice in his gaze.

“You ruined my ritual years in its making, and now you’ve stolen my Anchor’s purpose. Outworlder, I know not where you came from, but pray that your soul returns there for rest when I kill you.”

“Approach and test thy mettle, Elder Cur!” The Tarnished shouted and prepared her sword’s magic. The night sky concentrated into a beam of starlight that rushed toward Corypheus. He threw up an effortless barrier that absorbed the attack with an aftershock of red lightning. Eowyn summoned her shield back out to defend against the counterattack.

Corypheus shouted nonverbally and shot an invisible spell that wrenched Eowyn’s greatshield from her grasp. The Tarnished rolled away and strafed sideways, watching her foe. She contemplated using the forbidden Flame of Frenzy, and the yellow fire rushed behind her eyes to scour and liquify. Eowyn screamed as her eyes burned, then directed a wild stream of Frenzied Flame at the Elder One.

The Tarnished released her hold on the Frenzy to see Corypheus no longer there. Her eyes were sore and felt like they were melting in their sockets. The Tarnished looked around in search of the enemy and her rheumy eyes found only the dragon watching her. She then heard his deep voice from all around.

“I breached the Fade in the name of another to serve the old gods in person. And for a thousand years I was confused by dead whispers and chaos. Now I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own to correct this blighted world and carry the withering Tevinter to its true glory. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.”

Eowyn was suddenly overwhelmed by hatred of this foolish monster. Dare this cur speak of the Elden Throne? Dare he seek to usurp her lordship? She willed the great Black Blade of Maliketh into her hand and rested it on her shoulder. With a defiant glare at the dragon before her, Eowyn shouted to the sky.

“Verily, tis my sovereign throne thou envy! Dost thou presume to cast thine unclean gaze upon mine realm? Thou shalt suffer for thy arrogant hubris!”

Corypheus sneered, his reply was rumbling magma upon stone, toxic and intense with heat. “Your blasphemous drivel will not stop me. I will find another way to give this world the nation and god it requires.”

Far away behind Corypheus, Eowyn saw a bright red light soar into the air and explode among the mountainside. The Tarnished was puzzled, and wondered if it were some kind of message from her allies. None told her to wait for a signal of any sort, yet she chose to believe they were safe. She had to finish this quickly and return to them.

The Tarnished leapt forward with a cry and slashed a wave of Destined Death at the dragon. Corypheus appeared before her in a blur with a hasty barrier. The line of Destined Death sliced straight through the shield and severed his emaciated hand.

Corypheus shouted in pain and fury as he cradled the stump of his left arm close to his chest. His right hand rose and before Eowyn could counter, a massive blast destroyed the ground beneath her, throwing her into the air. The Tarnished couldn’t see Corypheus retreat on his dragon and fly away. She couldn’t see Melina cry out her name and race to the cliff edge. All Eowyn saw was the ground turn sideways and her body tumble into the dark abyss below as she screamed.

Chapter Text

“The scouts found nothing left of the Herald.” Leliana began quietly. “No blood, no body, and no trail to follow.”

The advisors of the Inquisition were huddled near a hastily set up campfire away from the boxes, crates and carts carrying everything they could from Haven. The Inquisition was camped along a snowy trail that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Morale was low, even after routing Corypheus’ army with the help of the Herald, but that brought up a new problem. The Herald of Andraste was missing and presumed dead.

“But they did find this.” Cassandra added and dropped an emaciated, clawed hand with long, yellowed fingers onto the tea table that Josephine had set up by the fire. The Ambassador wrinkled her nose at the severed appendage.

“The hand of the Elder One.” Cullen breathed.

“She must have cut it off before he flew away on that dragon.” Cassandra said, pride filling her voice.

“I have a few allies in Nevarra that may be in contact with Mortalitasi. We could get that… hand looked at for clues on Corypheus’ nature.” Josephine said, glancing at the dead hand with open disgust.

“We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, Josie. For now, let’s look for ways to find a settlement.” Leliana replied.

“Our people are low on morale, and without a place to go, we’re hobbled.” Cullen punctuated.

“Supplies may last for a few weeks, but our infrastructure is suffering. Our contacts may not wish to continue aiding us without a base of operations.” Josephine explained.

“And without the presence of the Herald, our people here are starting to feel hopeless. It’s been almost a week since anyone last saw her.” Cullen piled on the dire news.

“Do you think she went back to her home world?” Leliana ventured with a hint of doubt. Cassandra’s face pinched.

“Eowyn is a woman of her word. She wouldn’t leave us now.” Cassandra said fiercely. The Seeker believed the Herald would show up again somehow. The alternative was not something she wanted to think about.

Just as despair seemed at its peak among the Inquisition, a bright gold beam of light suddenly appeared from the sky paces away from the camp. The beam shot down into the snow, bright enough to suffuse everyone near in flaxen light. The beam was sustained for a few minutes, and the snow melted where it touched. On the solid earth, a golden mote of light solidified into a small, pulsing imprint that floated inches above the ground. Soldiers stood in front of noncombatants and workers that surrounded the bright mote of light, wondering what it was.

The Inquisition watched cautiously as near the wavering light, a translucent figure started to become visible. The figure was laying on the snow as if sleeping. When she caught sight of the barely visible form, Cassandra wondered if it were a spirit of some kind, and if a rift was nearby.

Yet as they watched, ashes swarmed to the figure. The ashes were joined with embers and sparks of the fire to swirl around the body ethereally. Glowing, braided white strands of hair grew on the body’s head. Ashes and embers coalesced into strong, lithe arms and long, slender legs. A beautiful, feminine face was recreated by the ashes and the sparks burned blue to make her eyes. Beneath a generous bosom formed from the cinders shined the unmistakable symbol of the Elden Ring. Even the burning grasp of the Three Fingers was remade to mar her supple, pale torso.

The reconstructed woman stood slowly as if pulled by strings. Deep blue eyes opened and gazed down on their naked form. An instant later, the gleaming armor of Rellana covered her body but not her head. Upon her brow was an intricately detailed golden circlet that faintly glowed. The royal blue cloth that ran down the chestplate starkly challenged the dull, snowy backdrop. White hair woven into a pair of thick braids lined the shining silver armor and freely falling strands framed the kind, smiling face of Eowyn.

The Herald of Andraste was reborn. The members of Haven’s Chantry fell to their knees along with several devout villagers. Some of the soldiers appeared to want to kneel as well. Eowyn looked around at her people and gave every face watching her a benevolent smile. Her smile seemed to calm some, but made others look even more surprised. Then she saw her advisors clustered together with matching faces of awed confusion, and walked toward them.

“Mine fair comrades, spake I not that I shall ne'er forsake thy side?” Eowyn proclaimed loudly with her arms spread out. The Tarnished laughed lightly at their astonished faces. Cassandra recovered first and unsheathed her sword, eyes suspicious and trained on Eowyn. The Tarnished stopped in her tracks well away from the sword and narrowed her eyes at Cassandra. Did they really have to do this every time Eowyn did something surprising? Perhaps she should allow the Seeker to stab her just to let her frustrations out. The Grace was right there after all.

“What manner of magic is this? Is this some form of Necromancy?” The Seeker questioned, confusion and disbelief plain on her face. Eowyn’s brows pinched together and her cheeks burned with sudden anger as she addressed Cassandra. The soldiers nearby tensed at her expression.

“Didst thou not heed mine words that I am immortal? When shall thou at last believe me, my dear Seeker?” Eowyn replied, her voice tinged with disappointment and vexation. The dark haired Nevarran has been suspicious of her for too long. Were they not friends by now?

“How were you able to find us? You revived so close to our camp, it had to be intentional.” Cassandra went on, ignoring Eowyn’s question. The Tarnished gained a thinking pose, her hand on her chin and head tilted upward. Then she shrugged and smiled slightly.

“Verily, I know not. I do believe Grace hath been most prevalent amongst thee, mine dear friends, and hath fashioned a pool whereupon I might restore mine strength.” Eowyn replied, then her smile vanished and in its place was the stern visage of the Elden Lord. Cassandra’s stance widened unconsciously.

“O Seeker, thou dost bring strife upon each step I take. Dost thine desire to engage me in combat overcome thine stalwart comradery?” Eowyn asked and stepped forward, her tone and expression serious. Her advisors behind Cassandra looked at each other in distress, one step from intervening. The Seeker narrowed her eyes, but then sheathed her sword after a pause. She sighed and looked down, contrite.

“No Herald, I do not desire to fight you. I-ugh.” Cassandra faltered, not looking at Eowyn. Leliana stepped in next, a question on her lips as Cassandra walked to the other side of the camp without saying a word to anyone else. Eowyn let her go, but knew she would have to talk to the Seeker about this at some point.

“I wouldn’t worry about her, she shakes her sword at everyone. However, what you just did, Eowyn. People don’t just come back from death like that.” Leliana said quietly. Eowyn looked away in thought, but the Spymaster wasn’t finished.

“You say Grace restores your strength. What is Grace? How is it made?” The Spymaster asked. Eowyn turned and pointed to the small waving mote of light behind her and Leliana followed her gaze.

“Lo, that is Grace! A boon bestowed by the Erdtree, granting me the power to rise anew from the grasp of Death.” The Tarnished explained as if that were commonplace. Before Leliana or the others could bombard her more with questions, Eowyn addressed the whole of the following at the camp. Her gloved hands went to her mouth and loudly yelled ‘Hey!’ to catch the attention of everyone, though most were already watching her quite plainly.

“Hark, goodly folk! Lo, I hath returned from the clutches of death, mightier than e'er before!” She shouted with a voice of conviction. This multitude of people that cheered in response were followers of the Maker and of Andraste, devout to their god and his bride. Yet Eowyn has appeared and shaken the faith of all that came from Haven. And now she performed a miracle even Andraste has not done. She rose again from death in front of all of them. Many of the survivors and soldiers of the Inquisition looked toward Eowyn as if the Maker himself was speaking to them.

“Pray lend thine ears, for I dost seek to impart a matter of import.” Eowyn called out with a voice like wind chimes on a cloudless day. When she had the eyes of all the people she could see including her companions and the advisors, the Tarnished paused for a moment before bowing at the waist in a clear apology. Gasps and whispers spread through the crowd. What was happening? Why would the Herald bow to us?

“With all humility, I do beseech thy forgiveness for the trials and tribulations I hath wrought upon thee. I didst provoke our foe and summoned a conflict unto thine abodes. For the desolation wrought upon Haven, I do sincerely beseech thy pardon.” Eowyn apologized wholeheartedly, her voice deep with remorse. If she weren’t so headstrong she could have gained more allies and hobbled the army of Corypheus. If only she went to Redcliffe like the Enchanter Fiona said, then the mages may have joined their cause. Yet Eowyn felt she was too strong to need aid. It cost her people too much already. Eowyn rose from her self-reproachful bow and stood tall. Her voice gained a strong quality. Some of those that looked ready to protest her apology froze and calmed themselves.

“Yet henceforth, I shall lead us unto a new realm. I shall exalt the Inquisition and vanquish the Elder One, with thee all steadfast by my side!” She roared, arms raised high. “Lo! Let us rejoice and toil together in harmony and fraternal kinship, for thy beacon of light doth still illuminate the path before thee!” Eowyn ended her impromptu speech with a Golden Vow that encompassed the entire area. Everyone throughout the camp felt the bolstering wave of the miracle fill them and knew it was more than mere magic. The Herald’s miracles were divine in nature and beyond the Fade where magic is sourced.

Her resplendent armor shone with the light of several campfires and cast an otherworldly silhouette. Everyone in the camp was captivated by the heartfelt words and ethereal image of the Empyrean before them. Cheers rose up from the crowd and Eowyn joined them in celebration.

When the cheers died down Eowyn turned away from the dispersing crowd and walked over to take the severed hand of Corypheus from the side table where it sat and put it away. She would investigate that later. It may hold something hidden about her foe.

The Tarnished then searched for the Quartermaster Threnn, looking out for that outlandish hat she usually wore. The Herald found Threnn standing near a table drowning in paperwork, and overlooking a clipboard in her hands. She turned and nodded to Eowyn with respect.

“Fair Quartermaster, I present unto thee provisions of cured meats and enchantments for the brave vanguard.” Eowyn said jovially, and produced an empty crate. She then proceeded to fill the crate with Invigorating Cured Meat and Clarifying White Cured Meats that appeared from the nether. When the crate was full, Eowyn closed its lid and filled another crate with meat. After filling one more crate with meat and shocking Threnn into silence, the Herald placed several strange bright items on the table laden with papers.

“These enchantments beareth the name Golden Vow. Bestow them upon those poised to enter into battle. Bestow the meat upon any who doth desire a portion thereof.” She told Threnn who nodded, mystified. Eowyn smiled at the baffled Quartermaster, clapped her shoulder, and turned away.

The Herald caught sight of Dorian Pavus standing near a tent looking quite uncomfortable and a bit out of place. Eowyn walked up to him and greeted the olive skinned man with a smile.

“Good sir Dorian Pavus! Thou art yet still among us. I am most joyed to behold thy countenance.” Eowyn said brightly. Dorian turned to her and sighed, looking put upon.

“I was wondering why that was. Me still being here, not you being overjoyed to see me. That I understand completely.” Dorian’s rich voice was complemented by his quick cadence and light humor. Eowyn found herself staring at his mustache while he talked. “I hope you’re not too terribly confused about all of this. I would hate to be the only one, you see.”

“Alas, I find myself in depths most perilous. Verily, I ought to grasp the meaning of yonder terms cast about, yet time hath ever eluded me for such learning.” Eowyn confessed, her smile falling a little as she realized how much of this world she knew nothing about.

“Let me assist you with a formal introduction then, now that we aren’t running for our lives. Wandering through a snowy wilderness notwithstanding. I am Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of the Tevinter Imperium.” Dorian did a little half bow and his mustache twitched. Eowyn giggled behind her gloved hand.

“Thou art most valiant, Dorian, for journeying unto Haven to deliver thy warning. I thank thee for thy steadfast presence.” Eowyn proclaimed benevolently. Dorian’s eyebrow rose and he crossed his arms, though his lips turned upward.

“Let’s suspend the compliments and thanks for when we have a new base of operations. Maybe a throne room where you could formally praise my bravery and brilliance, before an audience of course.” Dorian said, bringing up a point Eowyn had yet to put her mind toward. The Inquisition needed a new home base. Eowyn didn’t know the lay of the land, so her searching may take longer than someone who knew more about the Frostback Mountains and Ferelden in general. Eowyn focused on a different detail for now.

“Thou didst proclaim thy lineage as hailing from the Tevinter Imperium. Yon Corypheus didst declare his desire to bestow glory upon 'withering Tevinter'. Pray tell, doth he refer to the very same realm?” That monster seemed to be ancient, carrying on about his kingdom of yore. Maybe he was speaking of an older Tevinter of some sort.

Dorian’s face pinched. “Well yes, and no. That cult I mentioned, the Venatori. They’re Tevinter Supremacists desperate to restore the Imperium to its ‘glory days’ and they’re ready to destroy the nation from the bottom up. The Imperium they serve no longer exists.”

“And dost thou not yearn for the return of the ancient Tevinter?” Eowyn asked. The Lands Between were rife with zealots wishing for the return of their lords or the luster of their kingdoms. Their minds wasted away and left with only the mad desire to protect a fallen stronghold. To find the opposite was a rarity.

“I’d rather my country progress forward not backward. It may be a land of lies built upon secrets built upon falsehoods, but it’s still my homeland. The Venatori don’t care about the Imperium, not what it is now. That’s why they need to be stopped. And the whole ‘worshiping an ancient darkspawn god trying to bring about the end of the world’ thing.”

Eowyn knew at that moment she could rely on Dorian Pavus. He was an antithesis of many enemies she faced in her own homeland. Like the Veiled Monarch Morgott who opposed any change facing the capital, and fought so fiercely for a dying land. Never once did Morgott do anything to help Leyndell progress beyond the Shattering in any of Eowyn’s repeating lives. No one did.

However, Dorian didn’t want to go back to the ‘glory days’ of his homeland, or even keep the status quo. He wanted his nation to move forward. That was something the Tarnished could appreciate now that she was free from the cycle in the stagnant Lands Between.

“Pray, allow me to seek the means of securing the throne chamber and a coveted audience for thee.” Eowyn said with a playful smile. “I shall return to discourse anon, good sir Dorian.” She turned with a small wave that Dorian answered with a nod.

Eowyn then walked back to the Grace and sat down, sighing in comfort as she did. A moment later Melina appeared next to her in a shimmer of blue mist, eliciting gasps and whispers from the people nearby that haven’t seen her before. Eowyn was familiar with Melina appearing by Grace, but this time it surprised and delighted the Tarnished. It could be that usually they met in the wilderness of the Lands Between and this was the first Grace in Thedas. They also were near a mass of people who weren’t hostile to Eowyn, a scenario the Tarnished was still unused to.

Melina watched her Tarnished with a face clear of emotion. It seemed the Elden Ring was able to create sites of Grace in this realm without the Erdtree. The maiden looked around and saw they were nowhere familiar, surrounded by mountains and snow from all sides. The only landmark of note was the quickly assembled camp of the Inquisition, more of a rest stop before they trekked onward. For the Grace to appear here, it meant the Elden Ring communed with the thoughts and feelings of the Tarnished and connected them with the Inquisition in some way to revive her closer to them. Melina felt she was coming to understand the Elden Ring and her Tarnished a bit better.

Eowyn glanced over at Melina and smiled contently. Melina was safe and it seemed she could still appear at sites of Grace even with a physical body. They would have to see if more sites of Grace could be made all through Thedas to make travel easier for them both.

“You have come back from death, my Tarnished. I feared things would be different in this world, yet I am relieved to have found a site of Grace.” Melina said quietly, her dusky voice holding solace. Eowyn’s cerulean eyes were stormy as she gazed at Melina. Her maiden was the most important person to her, there was no way she would leave Melina in an unfamiliar world after convincing her to abandon the Lands Between. Not even death could separate them.

“Whence there be Grace, I shall ever return to thee.” Eowyn replied softly. Melina’s lips twitched, and she leaned her head on Eowyn’s shoulder. The Tarnished saw to filling her Flasks of Tears and switching the contents of her Wondrous Physick. She then gently took Melina’s hand in hers. Melina’s golden eye glanced at their joined hands then to Eowyn’s face.

“Do you wish to turn your Runes to strength?” She whispered in her smoky voice. Eowyn’s lips turned up with a coy smile as her deep blue eyes smoldered with desire.

“Might I not simply grasp thy fair hand?” Eowyn murmured, her face inching closer to her maiden’s. Melina’s flat look did not change, though her cheeks gained a slight rosy hue. Melina peered into the mind of her Tarnished through their physical connection and strengthened her as much as her runes allowed. Eowyn breathed in deeply and exhaled with a grateful look.

“I give thee thanks, fair maiden of my heart.” She said softly into Melina’s ear. Her smile widened when she saw a shiver run through her maiden in answer. Her lips brushed Melina’s pink tinged cheek before she drew away. Melina’s brow furrowed minutely and her flaxen eye carried trepidation and fondness in equal measure.

Leliana, Cullen and Josephine watched them covertly for a while with knowing grins, but soon scouts and messengers called them away to other business. Cassandra was sitting farther away, on the outskirts of the camp behind a stack of crates. She had an eye on the Herald but no one could see her unless they made a way through the maze of supplies making up her hiding place. The Seeker felt as if she were always saying the wrong thing to the Herald. Like all she knew was violence against someone unlike her, someone unlike anyone she’d ever met. It made Cassandra want to hide her face from everyone, though she knew it was cowardly.

Cassandra’s eyes switched from the Herald to that spirit girl Melina to their strange Grace hovering above the freshly melted snow. She sighed again, feeling a mixture of guilt at being so wary of the Herald and something else at seeing her so relaxed near that spirit girl. How the pit in the Seeker’s stomach grew and writhed as she watched Eowyn’s eyes sparkle at the sight of her ‘Kindling Maiden’. Cassandra did not know what it meant, but for a wild second in time her mind showed the Seeker resting her head on that strong shoulder in place of Eowyn’s maiden. And even though she shook the thought from her mind with a staunch rebuke, the image still burned behind her eyes.

-

Solas contemplated telling the Herald of his thoughts on the Orb of Destruction and a new location the Inquisition might be able to take advantage of, if they could find it. His walks in the Fade were strange lately, and Solas saw aftershocks of the battle Eowyn had with Corypheus. Spirits of the Fade reenacted the fight between the two powers for his education and enlightenment, yet he had more questions for each that answered. But from what the elf had seen, he knew Eowyn fought for good and possessed a well of compassion. Maybe she could turn this band of zealots into something worthwhile. Either that or she could twist them into a new monstrous entity Thedas has never seen before. Both options weren’t something Solas saw as his problem at this point in time. He approached the Herald and her peculiar maiden with a calm expression.

“Herald, may I have a word?” Solas asked when he got closer. That small pulsing light near the Herald looked like it should be warm but the elf was unaffected. It seemed it only gave comfort to whatever species the Herald and her spirit friend was. He spied small sprouts growing below the light. Did that light cause seedlings to grow or was it simply a flair of the spell? How did the Herald make such a spell that brought her back from death?

Eowyn looked up at Solas from her spot in the snow and grinned playfully. She patted the spot on the other side of her and gave him an expectant look. Solas looked confused, then huffed and sat down, droll humor sparked in his grey eyes.

“I might be more comfortable in the snow if your Grace affected me with warmth rather than just casting meagre light.” Solas began as he sat a little away from the couple. Eowyn looked surprised that the Grace did nothing for Solas, though Melina did not. The Tarnished fished out a Warming Stone and dropped it near their feet. The warmth was immediate and soothing, and the stone perplexingly did not melt the snow. The gentle orange radiance made them all feel more relaxed and open to discussion.

“Doth this aid thee in any wise, Solas?” Eowyn asked and the elven mage nodded.

“It is a balm for weary limbs.” Solas replied and stretched as if he weren’t sitting on solid snow. “I feel like I am lying in a heated bath. How many of those stones do you have?” He asked curiously. Eowyn gave him an enigmatic smirk.

“An ample abundance.” She responded. Solas tilted his head, but didn’t prod further. He looked to think for a moment, then spoke. His deep, calming voice stirred a faint want in the Tarnished.

“You bring these people together and make them forget their pains and worries. Some even see you as a deific being already, which seems to be your plan all along. But there is something about Corypheus you must know, for it pertains to my people, the elves.” Solas’s voice gained a gravitas that erased Eowyn’s nonchalant demeanor. She sat forward near the Grace, jostling Melina slightly. Her maiden withdrew her head from Eowyn’s shoulder and sat up with her legs under her and her hands folded before her.

“What hath this matter to do with the folk of the Elven kin?” Eowyn queried, ignorant of the nuances of Thedas’ history and the full extent of the discrimination elves endure.

“The orb he had. Do you remember it?” Solas asked, leaning in a little. Half the bald elf’s face shone in relief against the light of the Grace. His visage was smooth and comely even when speaking of such fell things.

“Aye. The Elder fool held a curious orb of crimson lightning.” Eowyn answered scornfully. “He proclaimed it to be that which bestowed upon me the Anchor, and he did aspire to rend the very sky asunder.”

“Corypheus used it to create the Breach and unlocking it must have caused the explosion at the Conclave.” Solas revealed. Eowyn’s eyebrows rose at that, and she looked at Melina quickly. Her maiden wasn’t in Thedas at that point, but she appeared to be following along easily. Solas continued. “The orb is a focus, an ancient tool of magic I have seen in old memories in the Fade. He cannot continue to use the Orb. Any alliance between elves and humans will suffer if the knowledge of the orb’s origin gets out.”

“Thou speakest true, for I desire not to usher forth further tribulation upon thy kin. They hath endured ample woe, as mine ears have been told.” Eowyn assured her elven friend. Solas nodded, but his face was still pinched with concern.

“There are steps we can take to prevent such a risk.” Solas stood and looked down at the Herald. His face was half in shadow. “Scout to the north. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. I have seen in the Fade, a fortress where the Inquisition can grow and build, Skyhold.”

-

Eowyn was saddled on Torrent with Melina sitting behind her, her slender arms wrapped around Eowyn’s middle. They galloped through snow along a treacherous cliff face, searching. The Inquisition wasn’t far behind, the pair would periodically circle back to give direction and convene with Solas.

Their journeying was rewarded eventually, as the pair crested a mountain range and were gifted with the gorgeous view of an unassailable stone fortress among the cliffs at sunset. The towers and parapets were sturdy looking and the massive bridge connecting the castle to a trail across the mountain took Eowyn’s breath away. The Tarnished always loved a good castle, and this one was going to be hers.

The Inquisition would wait until dawn to enter the castle, but the Tarnished scouted into the night with Melina by her side to breach the fortress before any others and make certain it was safe. And for good reason. When Eowyn reached the bridge on the back of Torrent, she spied a familiar green energy crackling from a rift on the other side. Already demons prowled in the dark courtyard beyond her sight. The Tarnished rushed forward on her Spectral Steed and called forth her Frenzied Flame Seal. In her peripheral vision Melina pulled out her curved dagger. When Torrent reached the end of the bridge the pair leaped forward in tandem, the kindling maiden slashing straight into a rage demon and the Tarnished calling forth the Light of Miquella on the group of fiends.

The golden circlet on Eowyn’s brow guided her focus intrinsically, allowing her to recreate the incantation stronger than she ever had. The radius covered the area fully, and the resulting expulsion of light decimated all the demons caught in the blast. The after shock of beams of light raining down pelted the rift until it crystallized. Eowyn flexed the Anchor’s power and seized to rift and pulled, expecting an explosion that sealed the rift. Instead the Tarnished was blasted backward as the rift expanded inexplicably.

Eowyn and Melina hurried to join back together as they watched the rift crack the sky and a dark, scaly claw holding a gargantuan sword burst out of the opening. The Tarnished summoned the Moonlight Greatsword, her bittersweet gift from Lady Ranni, and raised it above her crowned head. Starlight and frost surrounded the blade and Eowyn spread her stance. The tear in the sky spewed forth the massive form of a magma wyrm right onto the front of Skyhold. Eowyn and her maiden were both at a loss for words as the great creature surveyed them both with cruel serpentine eyes.

“Monsters and fiends from the Lands Between have found a way through the rifts.” Melina’s dusky voice was unheard over the din of the wyrm’s mighty roar. The dragon swung its huge sword at the pair, kicking up boulders and clumps of earth as it smashed the ground. Melina darted backward as Eowyn dodged forward, her frosted sword at the ready. The Tarnished slashed vertically at the beast’s eye, the weakness of a wyrm that rests its head lower than other wyverns. The dragon flinched back in pain, then spit lava in a line where Eowyn stood.

Eowyn rolled away and summoned her Glintstone Staff. She spun the scepter in her hands in a flourish before turning her body in the air with a smooth flip. The cold presence of the Dark Moon spread out from the Tarnished and rushed toward the magma wyrm. The orb of cold exploded against its scaly head and the wyrm writhed before dropping to the ground, giving a clear opening. Eowyn burst into a sprint, running to the eye of the beast. The Tarnished stabbed her greatsword into the dragon’s vision, its hot blood steaming on the snow covered earth. Eowyn pulled out her sword and slashed again, releasing a wave of frost directly against the scales of the wyrm.

The Magma Wyrm suddenly spun, its sword a massive cleaving edge on the horizon. Eowyn went to block with her greatsword but her armor caught more of the hit. The Tarnished screamed as she flew sideways to hit a stone wall of the fortress. She blinked away black spots and tried to ignore how much her side burned with pain as she stood back up slowly.

Eowyn saw through the twilight Melina dodge spurts of lava and slash at the creature with her sacred curved dagger. Eowyn ran up to do the same with Lady Ranni’s prize. Together, under the rising full moon and cloudless night, the women split the attention of the great beast until it was brought low once more. Both the Maiden and Tarnished jumped to stab the wyrm’s eye as one, and with a dying roar, the beast perished.

Eowyn looked up at the rift that still blazed with green lightning and joined her Anchor to it. With a mighty pull the rift was finally closed for good. What appeared below it surprised both women. A pool of Grace burst into being, swirls of light already circling it invitingly. Eowyn gave Melina a puzzled look and the maiden gave back her best poker face. They walked toward the Grace and sat in its warmth, basking in the healing light.

“These dreaded rifts dost summon forth our foes from our realm, I trow.” Eowyn muttered, glancing over at Melina. The kindling maiden had a troubled gleam in her golden eye.

“I believe this wyrm may have crossed over the same way I did.” Melina proposed. She gazed directly upward where the rift was. “I do not think it was the only being to do so. Be wary, my Tarnished.”

“Ever shall I protect thee, mine fair maiden.” Eowyn replied seriously. “I shall henceforth exercise greater vigilance for tidings of invading hosts from our homeland.”

“Let us return to your people, Eowyn.” Melina said and stood up by the Grace. Eowyn got up as well, now fully healed and refreshed. “They will want to know about this strange happening with the rift.”

“Aye, mine lovely maiden eternal.” Eowyn murmured softly, cerulean eyes shining in the shadow of the night. Torrent was summoned soon after and the pair raced back across the great bridge to the camp of the Inquisition to report their new findings.

Chapter Text

Skyhold fortress had become an attraction that had pilgrims and volunteers pouring in from all over the land. Devouts trekked through the snowy wilderness to catch a glimpse of the Herald of Andraste, sealer of the Breach and renowned healer.

A particular spot of interest was in the castle’s expansive courtyard that opened from the vast bridge stretching across the mountain range. In the courtyard near the stairway leading to the upper level was a small, softly shining mote of light that floated above the stony ground. Specks of gold flowed out from it in a line that pointed toward the castle doors. The sight was curious, but what drew in the crowd was the one who sat near the light at certain times throughout the day.

The Herald of Andraste could be seen near what she called the ‘site of Grace’ whenever she had no pressing business elsewhere or was about to leave on a mission. Devouts and pilgrims would accost her there for prayer, healing or just to touch her hands. Eowyn invited them with a kind smile, and saw to any that needed healing as though it were her only occupation.

Splinters were ever forming among the followers of Andraste. Cults rose and fell by her name many times throughout the ages, and new devout radicals claiming dire purposes were commonplace. Yet another cult had been born under the Herald of Andraste, though it was at present without her knowledge or consent. This nameless cult worshipped the Herald for her endless compassion, and saw the site of Grace as a holy place of rest. Many claimed to feel refreshed and full of vigor after sitting near the floating light. However, most of the people in Skyhold denied feeling anything when they were near the Grace.

Eowyn was just leaving the site of Grace when Cassandra waved her over to where she and the advisors were huddled. When Eowyn approached, the others turned to leave. Cassandra beckoned Eowyn to walk with her and the Tarnished easily fell into step beside the Seeker.

“Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage. They arrive daily from all over the region.” Cassandra remarked with a nod to some civilians that were bringing in their belongings from carts and wagons. “The Elder One will have known about our location by now. We can defend better than at Haven with these walls and our numbers, but that is still a significant threat for all of us.”

“I shall vanquish Corypheus anon, my Seeker. We hath naught to fear.” Eowyn replied fiercely, and Cassandra’s eyes were caught by the unwavering conviction in Eowyn’s. The Seeker paused as her train of thought was interrupted by the strands of white hair that breezed across Eowyn’s face and how she absentmindedly tucked them behind her ear with a gloved hand.

“He will be drawn to you, and we know why.” Cassandra said after a moment of neither of them speaking. They were walking toward a stairway where Eowyn saw Leliana watching them and holding a gleaming longsword.

“Let him approach, should he possess the courage. I shall claim his other hand ere I sever that loathsome head from his shoulders.” The Tarnished knew no fear of the Elder One. Battling against threats like Starscourge Radahn and Malenia the Goddess of Rot tempered Eowyn’s resolve. Corypheus stood no chance against any of the demigods save perhaps Godrick.

“I should hope so. You healed the sky of the Breach and guided us out of Haven. That creature sees you as a rival because of what you did. You are the leader the Inquisition needs, Eowyn. And we all see that now.” Cassandra declared stoutly when they reached the Nightingale.

Leliana looked into Eowyn’s cerulean eyes and held out the ornamental sword of the Inquisitor. The masterfully detailed blade was sharpened for battle and there was a crimson scaled dragon wrapped around its crossguard. The leather wrought grip was inlaid with pearls. Eowyn accepted the sword firmly while holding Leliana’s gaze.

“I shall ensure the Inquisition doth stand prepared to confront the fiend Corypheus.” Eowyn proclaimed with blue eyes of fire. She then turned to Cassandra and smiled with such warmth and gratitude that the Seeker halted. “I shall ne'er forget the trust thou didst bestow upon me, fair Cassandra.” Eowyn looked back at the Nightingale. “And thee also, clever Leliana. The perilous path that lies before us shall be rendered less arduous with thee by my side.”

Leliana smiled enigmatically but said nothing. Cassandra breathed in deeply with her eyes closed tightly before she exhaled and met Eowyn’s gentle gaze again. “You have inspired courage in all of us, Eowyn.” Cassandra said in a voice a bit softer than she may have realized. “Without you, there would be no Inquisition. I believe this was the Maker’s plan to bring you to us, but how we are led will be up to you.”

Eowyn lifted the sword of the Inquisitor to eye level and inspected the dragon-laden crossguard. It was truly a work of art, this sword. Maybe the smithing stones she held could be of use in making it stronger, if Eowyn could get the Blacksmith to work with them.

Eowyn looked over the balcony down at the host of her followers gathering below. The silver-steel armor of the Twin Moons glinted majestically in the sunlight, and the gold circlet on her brow gleamed. Eowyn spotted Cullen and Josephine grinning at her among the crowd. Eowyn saw a shimmer of mist on one of the walls above and was delighted to see Melina appear to sit on one of the battlements. The maiden’s hood was draped over her pale face and her cloak flowed freely in the wind, yet Eowyn noticed Melina’s satisfied smile clearly.

“Thus, a Tarnished shall rise as a lord once more.” Eowyn whispered to herself before raising her voice for all to hear. “Hark to my call, Inquisition! We shall vanquish the foul Corypheus and restore tranquility to this realm! Fear not the encroaching shadow, for I shall be thy radiant beacon of hope!”

Eowyn then placed both her gloved hands on the sword’s grip and raised it above her head. The Tarnished silently recalled the incantation of the Sacred Blade and holy light suffused the sword of the Inquisitor. Eowyn brought the blade down to her side and let the coruscating light of the Elden Ring burn in her chest.

The civilians and soldiers in the gathering below were struck with awe at the sight of Eowyn shining above them. The seraphic overlapping rings that shone through her armor beckoned to their very souls, and the regal beauty of the Inquisitor’s determined face stirred a fierce love for her in their hearts.

Many would later describe seeing the vision of the Herald of Andraste in resplendent armor, holding that gleaming sword above them as a religious experience. Even the nonbelievers among them felt a faint yearning as they witnessed Eowyn brandishing that holy blade with her long, loosely braided white hair billowing in the wind behind her.

Cassandra called out to Cullen and Josephine in the crowd. “Have we told our people?”

“They know. And so too will the world.” Josephine answered loudly.

“Commander, will they follow?” Cassandra challenged.

“Inquisition! Will you follow?!” The Commander intoned to the crowd with his arms raised and was beset by loud cheers. “Will we fight?! Will we triumph?!” Cullen rallied them all with his booming voice.

“Your Leader! Your Herald! Your Inquisitor!”

The Inquisition celebrated fervently as Eowyn, a Tarnished from another world and the Herald of Andraste, was named Inquisitor. From somewhere high above the walls came a spectacle like hundreds of golden shooting stars that flew over Skyhold. One huge shining light flew slowly through the sky followed by a multitude of smaller stars that trailed by and exploded in showers of sparks.

The crowd gasped and raved at the impromptu ‘fireworks show’ as Elden Stars shot over them innocuously. Eowyn grinned at her advisors’ shocked expressions and looked to where Melina stood behind one of the stone walls. Her maiden had an impish smirk on her face and put a conspiratorial finger to her lips.

-

Some time later

-

Melina strode through the stone halls of Skyhold invisible to the eye and intangible to touch. The reddish haired maiden passed all manner of workers and peoples on her way. Builders rushing by toward some wall that needs repairing, arms full of lumber and tools. Cooks and scullery maids balancing steaming covered plates in their hands toward the private rooms of nobles, as well as hooded scouts and covert spies ambling through the corridors quietly in an attempt to avoid notice.

The once kindling maiden walked imperiously straight through the various people that crowded the hallways, unimpeded by their physical bodies. Melina went through a doorway and swiftly saw the one for whom she searched. In a tingling sound like small bells and a shimmer of blue mist, Melina made her presence known to the occupant of the large, opulent room. The young woman appeared close to the door for the illusion of walking through it, and also to show she meant no harm. Melina walked toward Josephine’s desk, making sure her unarmed hands were seen at her sides.

Josephine may have gasped upon seeing the Herald’s maiden suddenly appear, but she smiled politely at Melina as she looked up from her paperwork. The Ambassador sat at a sturdy, parchment laden desk at the corner of the room near a double bookcase full of large tomes, no doubt collections gifted by nobles or bought by exclusive merchants. There was a crackling fireplace at the other side of the room with two chairs joined intimately close and facing the mantle.

“Greetings, Lady Montilyet.” Melina addressed the brown skinned Ambassador with a small smile.

“Lady Melina, what a surprise. I would have thought you left with the Inquisitor to the Storm Coast.” Josephine said, her smile polite but her eyes expectant. Melina had been quite the recluse since her mysterious arrival through the Breach. If she weren’t so close to the Inquisitor, Josephine knew Cassandra and Leliana would have been much more objectionable to her presence. The young woman was never seen far from Eowyn’s side, if she was seen at all. Between Melina and Cole’s ephemeral presence, sometimes Josephine felt like Skyhold was haunted by ghosts.

“Apologies for the intrusion.” Melina said with a perfunctory bow of her head. “There are questions I believe you may have answers for.”

“No harm done, my Lady. What do you wish to know?” The Ambassador was more than busy, but it was a rare occurrence to have the Inquisitor’s maiden seek her out. Josephine could spare a moment for Melina’s curiosity.

“Is the Inquisition loyal to Eowyn or is my Tarnished just a figurehead for your Chantry to quietly remove when it suits them?” Melina’s low, breathy voice belied the serious nature of her words. Josephine’s countenance shifted slightly in response. Her eyebrows furrowed minutely and she tilted her head a bit while peering at the space between Melina’s open eye and her closed one.

“The Inquisition owes much of its current standing to Eowyn as well as closing the Breach. Rest assured, we would never betray her.” Josephine proclaimed, hiding her offense at such a question. The Herald- Eowyn was an admirable woman and the Ambassador was unaware of any schemes their organization had against her. “And the Inquisition is much less connected to the Chantry than you might think, my Lady.”

Melina did not relax, but her hands no longer made fists in her dress. She nodded, and her honeyed eye lost most of the acrimony it held.

“Now that the Breach is sealed, what are the Inquisition’s plans regarding my Tarnished?” Melina asked next and Josephine noticed again the affectionate label Melina used with a twitch of her lips.

“Sealing the Breach and routing the army of the Elder One has gained the Inquisition and Eowyn in particular, much favor in certain powerful circles.” The Ambassador responded, her cultured voice taking on a lecturing quality. “Now that we’ve proven ourselves, people may turn to us for things like Protection, Counsel or even Justice. The Inquisition offered these once, to those in need. And of course, our work is not done with Corypheus and his many plots.

“Eowyn is the Inquisitor, de facto leader of the Inquisition.” Josephine continued. “This title is well known in Thedas. Being the Inquisitor would only enhance any of Eowyn’s other titles rather than diminish them.”

“Considering that the Lands Between are lost to us now, Eowyn being Elden Lord would mean next to nothing in Thedas. Yet the title was an influential religious label as well as military.” Melina explained and Josephine nodded in understanding. “Will Eowyn be seen as such in the Inquisition?”

“Well, she is known as the Herald of Andraste.” Josephine said by way of explanation. “Andraste is a very important religious and political figure throughout all of Thedas. There are many stories spreading of Eowyn being sent by the Maker, especially after her feats of healing. There’s even one about how she was, ahem, ‘gifted the Maker’s wings of light’ to catch you in midair.” Josephine said with a knowing turn of her lips. Melina did not outwardly react to that information beyond her golden eye widening slightly. “It is difficult to curb these sorts of rumors and I’ll admit, the Inquisition has done quite the opposite in that regard.”

“So, the Inquisition wants my Tarnished to be seen as a goddess in your pantheon?” Melina asked, surprised.

“Andrastianism is not a pantheon.” Josephine was quick to correct. “The Maker is one god and Andraste is seen as a prophet, and his bride. The Inquisition once started as an arm of the Chantry, but that is no longer the case. Where the Eowyn fits into this is just as the Inquisition’s exalted leader. What that means in the religious aspect is clear, as the Chantry officially declared the title ‘Herald of Andraste’ as blasphemy.”

Melina hesitated before pitching her own petition. There were so many things the maiden and her Tarnished did not know about this world, and Melina wished to make sure Eowyn was knowledgeable of the political aspect of her role here.

“I’m sure my Tarnished had already explained some of our world when she first arrived. Yet I am privy to many tomes and ancient notes detailing certain events in our history as well. I can tell you what you wish to know of the Lands Between and its denizens, giving you insight into references Eowyn and I make, and knowledge of any creatures that may escape a rift. You only need to teach me about Thedas and its intrigue.” Melina said, putting forth her request and offer of aid.

Josephine looked thrilled at the offer. Ever since Eowyn and Melina returned to their camp with news that a huge dragon from their world escaped a rift, Josephine worried that something even worse might come through. The Ambassador quickly started leafing through a stack of papers on her desk before finding a blank parchment. She dipped her feathered quill in ink and started a missive in elegant handwriting. When her note was finished, waxed and sealed, the dark skinned Ambassador focused back on Melina.

“Excellent! This note will let one of our former researchers know to find you in the Herald’s quarters and answer any questions about Thedas you may have. Minaeve will also have a few questions of her own, so I’m sure there will be much to talk about.” Josephine signalled for the guard outside the door and when the helmeted man came in, she handed him the note with a whisper of where to deliver it. Melina watched the scout leave and then turned to smile at Josephine.

“You have been a great help in assuaging my fears, Lady Montilyet. You have my thanks.” The maiden said with a small curtsy.

“My door is always open for you, Lady Melina and please, call me Josephine.” Josephine replied smoothly and watched curiously as Melina left through the door instead of just disappearing like before. The Ambassador sighed, then looked back down at the requisition requests she received that morning.

-

The freezing rain that pelted the Storm Coast came down colder and harder than in most of misty Liurnia, by Eowyn’s memory. The Tarnished rushed toward the rocky, shipwrecked coast feeling more miserable than she had in recent memory.

The Inquisitor was held up in Skyhold’s tavern by a mercenary named Krem for a recruitment meeting at the Storm Coast. Apparently, there was a gathering of Tevinter forces and Krem’s leader wanted the Inquisition to be there as his group, the Bull’s Chargers took them down. Eowyn guessed they believed she would be so impressed she would recruit them at once.

Eowyn didn’t know if the one she sought would even still be around, as she left quite a while after Krem’s invitation. The tumultuous weather looked like a permanent fixture of the environment, soaking Eowyn and her team. If this Bull and his chargers weren’t here or up to her standard, the Tarnished was cold, wet and angry enough to do more than just politely reject their help. Cassandra, Varric and Solas likely felt the same, as all their stilted conversation halted at their arriving camp and hasn’t picked up since.

Eowyn reached a small cliff overlooking the coast and spotted a pitched skirmish raging below. Men in white armor resembling the Venatori she fought outside Haven were fighting another group wearing more mix matched armor that was mostly earth toned. The Tarnished couldn’t believe her luck, they arrived just in time for the battle. Missing the inevitable stakeout in pouring rain was a relief.

Eowyn looked over at Cassandra who had already unsheathed her sword. There was no way the Tarnished and her companions would sit by and watch as someone fought their enemies. The Seeker nodded at her, ready for battle. Solas and Varric followed further behind as the mage and sharpshooter needed their distance. The Inquisitor felt the energy of a magic shield enveloping her body and grinned at Solas before jumping into the fray.

The Tarnished gripped the swords of Rellana in each hand. A Venatori came at her with a fierce overhead slash just as another tried to skewer her from behind. Eowyn turned with her left handed sword to redirect the first man’s slash, then spun to deflect the stab at her back with her right.

With a definitive thrust of her arm, the fire wrought blade dug deep into one Tevinter’s chest and Eowyn slid forward to grasp the man’s shoulder. He fought her grip but not the answering swipe of a Charger’s blade from behind him. The Tarnished let go of the dying man and called on the flame. Her sword was wreathed in fire that burned the Tevinter cultists attempting to fight her to ash.

There was a giant shirtless man with horns on his head that just split a Venatori’s skull apart with a massive war axe. Eowyn channeled magic into her right handed blade and shot out a series of magic waves into a group of men in Tevinter armor between them. Eowyn ran past the writhing Venatori to the large man’s side. They stood back to back as angry Venatori mercenaries crowded around them.

“Thou art surely the Iron Bull.” Eowyn crowed over the din of battle. She stabbed a Venatori with both swords, then kicked him in the stomach to pull them out. Iron Bull swung his big axe in a horizontal slash that threw several white armored men on their backs.

“Did the horns give it away?” Iron Bull said rhetorically while he crashed his axe down on a Tevinter’s face. There weren’t many Venatori left alive, and the ones that still breathed were being handled by her companions and the Chargers.

When the fight was over, Iron Bull turned to his men. “Chargers stand down! Krem, how’d we do?”

The young man Eowyn talked to in Skyhold walked up to the large horned man and answered. “Five or six wounded. No dead.”

“That’s what I like to hear. When the throat cutters finish up, break out the casks.” Iron Bull replied jovially then looked at Eowyn. “The Herald of Andraste, or the Inquisitor now, right? You’re shinier than what I’ve been told. Want a drink?”

Eowyn shrugged with a grin. “I wouldst not refuse a tankard of ale after a clash of arms. Yet I shall tend to thine warriors ere we partake.”

“Heh heh, Oh no, this is Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. Not just any tankard of ale. You spill this, you'll kill the grass. But I'll thank you kindly for the Healing of my men. ” Iron Bull laughed, signaling Eowyn to follow him to his wounded men.

“So, do you always talk like you’re in a theatre play, or is it just an act?” The tall Qunari asked bluntly. Eowyn’s grin widened and she shook her head.

“I dost emulate the tongues of the demigods, for thus was I instructed in mine early life.” Eowyn replied and made her voice a bit louder over the rain.

Iron Bull whistled. “There’s a lot to take from that sentence.”

The two leaders approached the Chargers that were hurt in the skirmish. Several Chargers looked at Eowyn oddly while she examined them. Their eyes went to Iron Bull for permission before allowing her to see their wounds. The Qunari waved away their suspicions.

Eowyn knelt before the six bloodied men with her Erdtree Seal in one hand. An orb of gold expanded out from her kneeling form before fading, healing all within reach. The Inquisitor stood again to smile at the healed men before continuing with Iron Bull.

“And there’s that gold magic everyone’s been talking about. Everybody alright?” Iron Bull called out to his men. The freshly healed Chargers nodded at their leader while they checked out their newly mended flesh. Iron Bull was grinning when they continued their walk.

They were soon joined by Krem again. “My lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi. You’ve met.” Iron Bull said as a way of introduction. Eowyn nodded at the young man.

“Your Worship.” Krem said to her before turning to Iron Bull. “Throat cutters are done, chief.” Iron Bull looked mildly surprised.

“Already? Tell them to check again. Can’t have any of these Tevinter bastards getting away. No offense, Krem.”

“None taken.” Krem replied blithely. “At least a bastard knows who his mother is. Puts him one up on you Qunari, right?” He sassed before walking away. Eowyn tried to hide her laugh behind a gloved hand.

Bull stopped walking and looked at Eowyn seriously. “We fight well, as you can see. We’re expensive but worth it. And I know the Inquisition can afford us.”

Eowyn stopped as well and looked thoughtful. She didn’t handle the Inquisition’s coffers, but she had an idea how much money they had on hand. She understood that if this quest was sanctioned, then her advisors probably already knew how much the Bull’s Chargers cost and were willing to pay.

The Tarnished peered at the tall Qunari before her, taking him in. He was taller than her by about a hand, and very muscular. His biceps were as big as her head and had tantalizing viens trailing down them. One of his arms had a paultron and armor that buckled across his solid chest. His girdle was large and similar to that of a gladiator belt and his trousers were wide, striped, and tucked into calf high boots.

Iron Bull was big, strong and attractive to the Tarnished. His face was more rugged than Solas’ and his eyes more fierce than Varric’s. The Tarnished looked up and brazenly wondered how those long horns of his felt in her grip. Eowyn liked the idea of having more allies, but there must be more to this arrangement than just hiring a band of mercenaries.

“Thou art fair of visage and possessed of great strength. Thy men doth appear most capable, indeed. Pray, what dost thou seek in joining the Inquisition?” Eowyn asked the Qunari. Bull looked like he was replaying her question in his head before a smirk flashed over his mouth.

“Fair of visage, huh. That some lordly way of saying you like my face?” He replied, but before Eowyn could answer, Bull interrupted. “Look, the Chargers are looking for work and we have a common enemy, the Venatori.”

“Verily, this be true. That foul cult hath much to atone for.” The Tarnished allowed.

“So you’ll get the Chargers and you’ll get me.” The large Qunari flexed his arms and grinned. “I’m your man if you’re looking for a frontline bodyguard. There’s nothing too big for me to fight. And there’s another thing. You might find it useful or it could piss you off. Ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?”

Eowyn gazed at him blankly. That must be a faction or a group Bull was a part of or fought against. It could even be a title he carried. The Tarnished had no idea. Bull looked understanding at her uncomprehending expression.

“Fair enough. The Ben-Hassrath is a Qunari order of spies that handle information, loyalty, security and all of that. And well, I’m part of it.” Iron Bull said flatly. Eowyn raised a white eyebrow at his gall.

“Dost thou seek to pry upon my deeds? And thou declare it so boldly.” The Tarnished said in surprise. Why would she want a spy near her? Just so he can report back to some Qunari version of Gideon Ofnir?

“The Ben-Hassrath is concerned about the Venatori. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to you and report what’s happening. But I also get reports from other Ben-Hassrath agents that I will share with your people.” Iron Bull carried on, laying his mission out plain. Eowyn could commend him on his honesty, but now everything about the Qunari was in question. It left a sour taste in Eowyn’s mouth. The Inquisitor thought for a long moment before making her decision.

“Shouldst thou present all thy matters unto the Nightingale, revealing only that which she doth deem worthy, then thou mayest join into my service.” Eowyn told Iron Bull. Then she narrowed her stormy blue eyes and the light of the Elden Ring shone on her breast brightly through her armor. She held out her hand and the wicked dagger of a Black Knife Assassin burst into existence. “Yet shouldst thou ponder treachery against me or endanger the Inquisition at all, mine blade shall grant thee all Destined Death.”

The Tarnished declared so loudly enough that Krem and Cassandra, who were walking toward them, heard clearly. Krem looked disturbed by the threat while the Seeker looked gratified. Iron Bull nodded seriously like being threatened with cruel looking daggers was his daily business.

“Not a problem, boss.” He said simply and turned to Krem. “Tell the men to finish their drinks on the road. The Chargers just got hired!”

“We just opened the casks, chief. With axes.” Krem deadpanned. Eowyn put away the Black Knife and cut in to say her piece.

“Verily, we may still partake of a cup. I spoke truth when I declared mine desire for a tankard 'pon the conclusion of our clash.” Eowyn spoke up. It sounded like some good mead they opened and it was already raining, they may as well be as drunk as their soaked clothes.

“Boss’s orders, let’s drink! Then find a way to seal them, Krem.” Bull relented.

Eowyn was soon offered a covered mug filled with an amber liquid. She took a sip and was delighted by its chill and auspicious flavor. She noticed any Chargers with a cup drink their portion sparingly. Cassandra refused hers, saying she would not muddle her thoughts while still in hostile land and Solas seemed to never drink anything other than water. Varric however, had two tankards full.

Chapter Text

The First Turn of the Wheel

Eowyn crouched low and moved slowly towards the guiding light of the Grace near the ruins of a massive portcullis. Her Uchigatana was heavy in her grip, and she struggled to resist breaking into a sprint for the inviting mote of light so close yet guarded by Godrick’s cruel soldiers. The Tarnished waited for the horn wielding soldier to turn his back before racing to the oasis.

The moment Eowyn went to touch the Grace and familiarize herself with its warmth, it went dim. Then Eowyn screamed as she felt a stabbing pain in her middle through her armor. She looked down in shock to see a blooded longsword sticking out from her stomach. Eowyn felt a hot breath on her neck and heard a hateful whisper of ‘Die. Tarnished!’ before a hard boot kicked into her back with enough force to remove the sword painfully from her body. The Tarnished fell forward in blinding agony. Eowyn shook herself awake in time to dodge away from a downward slash from the soldier.

Her Crimson Flask was empty. Its mysterious origin was still a plague on her curious mind, yet no help now. Eowyn focused on the soldier’s movements though the pain of her bleeding middle. The Tarnished watched as if time slowed as her enemy drew his body back and powered forward with a thrust. Eowyn knocked away the soldier’s sword with her wooden shield and took instant advantage of the opening.

Her katana stabbed deep in the middle of her foe and Eowyn was quick to return the malicious kick to his torso while pulling out her blade. As the soldier cradled his wound on the ground, Eowyn wasted no time in stabbing the man again and twisting the blade. Gold runes flowed from the dead soldier as he drew his last breath. Eowyn cleaned her sword and sheathed it before turning to her prize.

Eowyn dropped wearily into the Grace’s light just away from the opening to the Gatefront to Stormhill. The half-mad soldiers of Godrick prowled the area militantly in search of Tarnished, and yet, as Eowyn sat in the Grace, none of the soldiers met her eyes or reacted to her at all. Eowyn basked in the warmth and saw to refill her Flasks, finally able to rest. She removed her iron wrought helm to free her long, loosely braided white hair that flowed past her back. Eowyn brushed the sweaty, stray hairs from her eyes and sighed contently.

A tingle of blue mist interrupted the calm silent night as the Tarnished sat near the Grace. Eowyn turned to see a petite woman in a dark cloak appear in her midst. She didn’t feel any deadly aura from the woman, so Eowyn sat still and waited for an explanation.

“Greetings, Traveler from beyond the fog. I am Melina.” The dusky voice of the young woman was complimented by a pale, beautiful face as Melina removed her hood. “I offer you an accord.”

One of her eyes was big, cautious, and bright gold in color. The other eye was shut by some sort of dark claw tattoo. Melina had thin, pink lips and when she spoke Eowyn saw small, sharp white teeth. Her brownish pink hair was shoulder length, parted in the middle, and had faint highlights of gold throughout. She wore simple traveling clothes with dark boots that she sat under to address the Tarnished.

Eowyn was instantly captivated by the mysterious woman before her. She spoke of an accord, and Eowyn wanted to find out more. Melina sat and paused for a moment to gather herself, before speaking once again in that soothing, smoky tone.

“Have you heard of the Finger Maidens?” She asked, and Eowyn tilted her head quizzically. Before she could answer in the negative, Melina continued. “They served the Two Fingers, offering guidance, and aid, to the Tarnished.”

Eowyn nodded in understanding, relieved that not only was Melina not hostile, but she gave away vital information seemingly for free. Not even the kindly merchant Kale did that.

“But you, I am afraid, are maidenless.” She stated it as fact, and it burned within Eowyn to be reminded that she had no one to truly aid her in this strange calling she has embarked on. Tarnished apparently were assumed to have a maiden to guide them. Maybe it was supposed to be that woman Eowyn saw lying dead in a puddle of her own blood inside that ruined church up on that treacherous cliff. Eowyn felt a sharp pain go through her head at the memory. Flashes of the grotesque amalgamation of limbs carrying swords and a giant shield raced through her mind and Eowyn rubbed her temples with her hands.

Melina must have assumed Eowyn’s action as simple annoyance at being called maidenless because she moved on quickly as if she practiced this little speech. She probably did. Eowyn’s lips twitched at the thought.

“I can play the role of maiden. Turning runes to strength. To aid you in your search for the Elden Ring. You need only take me with you. To the foot of the Erdtree.” Melina rushed through this part of her speech. Maybe she wanted to quickly lay out her terms. Eowyn was of a mind that the young woman might be a bit desperate or even embarrassed to ask a Tarnished for aid. Either way, having a woman nearby who Eowyn could talk to and learn more about the realm she found herself in was a boon she couldn’t pass up.

“I dost accept thine request. I shall escort thee to the base of the Erdtree, fair Melina.” Eowyn’s voice was scratchy with disuse, her accent and manner of speech that of Leyndell nobility from centuries past. Eowyn was garbed in the decorative armor of a warrior from the Land of Reeds, yet the Tarnished did not remember anything of that place. Her first true memory that wasn’t strange dreams and nightmares was waking up despondently in that dark, dreary Graveyard.

Melina’s brow furrowed minutely at Eowyn’s reply but nodded her head in acceptance. “Then it’s settled. Summon me by Grace to turn runes to strength.” Melina almost got up right then but sat back down on her calves. She seemed a bit frazzled to Eowyn, maybe she was excited by her acceptance. The young woman pulled something from her pocket and held her hand out to Eowyn, palm up. In her hand was a small golden ring with curious little holes on its side.

“Ahh, another matter. I bequeath to you this ring.” Eowyn hesitantly took the ring from Melina and held it closer to her eye to see the groves and holes better. “It is the Spectral Steed Whistle. Use it to traverse great distances. It will summon a spectral steed named Torrent.” Melina’s golden eye sharpened sternly. Her frame was small but she effectively loomed over Eowyn as she said her next words like a command.

“Torrent has chosen you. Treat him with respect.”

Eowyn nodded resolutely at Melina and held the ring tightly in her grip. “ I shall render mine heartfelt gratitude to Torrent in sooth for deeming me worthy.” She said wholeheartedly to Melina, her blue eyes catching Melina’s sole golden. Melina’s mouth moved almost to smile before she looked toward the Grace.

Eowyn unconsciously knew how many shards of runes she carried. She had no idea how they could be transformed into strength, but certainly wouldn’t turn down the chance to become stronger. The white haired Tarnished put away the whistle and regarded the maiden.

“Prithee, couldst thou transform mine runes into might? Or perchance fortitude? Pray tell, how dost thy wondrous skill function? How many runes dost thou deem requisite?” Eowyn meant to ask one question but her thoughts started spilling from her lips before she could stop herself. Melina froze, her golden eye wide as Eowyn bombarded her with questions.

Melina covered her mouth with her slender hand and her shoulders shook with what Eowyn hoped was a laugh. The Tarnished saw that she had white scars as if scorched by flames. When Melina held her hand out once more her face was blank of emotion.

“Forgive me, Tarnished. I do not truly know the answers you seek. However, if you wish, I can turn your runes to strength. Perhaps you will gain insight into the process.” Melina said with her hand held out invitingly.

Eowyn moved forward to place her hand on Melina’s. At once Eowyn felt a scorching heat coming from Melina’s hand, as if she were holding fire. Melina’s palm was soft and barely touched Eowyn’s, but a connection the Tarnished couldn’t fully explain was forged between the two women at that moment.

“Share them with me. Your thoughts, your ambitions, the principles you would follow.” Melina said to Eowyn in that soft voice of hers, and the Tarnished was swept away. Eowyn’s mouth opened to tell this maiden about herself and what she wanted to do, yet what came out was a babble of intersecting thoughts concerning almost anything and everything she encountered so far. Melina said nothing as the Tarnished went off on a long, winding rant about her relatively short journey, however she noticed Eowyn never moved her hand from hers no matter how enthused she became.

“Could it be but a vision of mine mind that found me upon yon frail causeway, grappling with that dread beast of many limbs? I did indeed plummet unto mine own demise! Yet, verily, it marked but the first of mine many untimely exits from this mortal coil thereafter.” Eowyn rambled, switching from wonder and awe when describing places she had seen to fury and trepidation when explaining what her foes looked like or what they did to her. Melina found her lips turning upward as she listened to this naive Tarnished. At least Torrent chose a Tarnished who made light company.

“Pray tell, whence did these flasks emanate? For upon mine awakening amidst yon foul sepulchre, I found them nestled within my pouch.” Eowyn pointed behind her toward the massive gravesite with a tall macabre statue on its roof. Melina tuned back into the words of the Tarnished when she heard something about Flasks. “I do ponder who bestow'd such treasures upon me. I yearn to render mine utmost gratitude in fitting manner.”

“Tarnished, twas I who bestowed upon you the Flasks of Crimson and Cerulean Tears for your survival. It was at Torrent’s behest, I am afraid. Your gratitude shan’t go to me, but to him.” Melina said blankly. Eowyn’s blue eyes shone at the revelation and her mouth opened in an awed ‘O’ shape. She made to get out the whistle to summon Torrent when Melina gripped her hand, a gentle reminder of their present task. Eowyn’s cheeks burned and she relaxed.

“Pray, I beseech thy pardon.” Eowyn muttered before focusing more on her hand in Melina’s. “Ah, might thou grant me the boon to bear more wares? Forsooth, mine sword doth weigh heavily as doth mine armor. I yearn to traverse swifter and further still.” The Tarnished said after a moment of thought.

Melina nodded absently and in a shower of gold Eowyn felt a change come upon her. Her armor seemed a little lighter and her breath came a bit easier. Eowyn looked slowly at Melina with such emotion on her face the maiden had to look away.

The Tarnished had been chased, stabbed, burned and smashed by every other being she encountered in this land beyond the docile wildlife. For Melina to appear before Eowyn with the willingness to help and guide her without attacking, the Tarnished felt a rush of goodwill toward the petite woman. Eowyn softly held Melina’s hand with both of her own and regarded the woman with sincere gratitude. Melina watched her as well, quietly wondering what this Tarnished was going to do next.

“Fair Melina, thou art the first to render aid to mine heart in this peculiar realm. By my troth, I vow to strive with all my might to escort thee safely to the base of the Erdtree.” Eowyn pledged wholeheartedly, her bright blue eyes shining. Melina silently gazed at Eowyn with a wide golden eye as if searching for duplicity, yet her face was a rosy pink.

“Very well. Summon me by Grace if you wish to turn your runes to strength again.” The maiden made to stand quickly. Eowyn watched as Melina suddenly disappeared with the same blue mist that foretold her arrival. The Tarnished got up quickly and looked around, puzzled.

“Why did she depart? I had believed she would journey alongside me.” Eowyn muttered, disheartened. If she knew Melina would leave so quickly, Eowyn might have chosen her strength a bit slower, if only to enjoy the maiden’s company longer. She sighed and moved on, pulling out the Spectral Steed Whistle Melina so graciously provided her.

Eowyn put the ring tenderly on her right middle finger and after marvelling at its lustre, Eowyn blew sharply into the small holes on the ring’s side. Instantly she was saddled on a shaggy, long haired steed with horns like a bull. Torrent was built similarly to a horse but more squat, and already had saddlebags equipped along its flank. Eowyn got over the initial shock and immediately leaned forward to embrace Torrent’s neck.

“I am most grateful, noble Torrent. Thou didst select me and persuaded fair Melina to lend her aid. Henceforth, I shall ensure thy safety and sustenance. This I do solemnly vow.” Eowyn promised with her face deep in the unkempt hair of Torrent’s neck. Torrent wickered and shook his head when Eowyn moved back and grabbed the reins. The Tarnished took out her cookbook and looked through it for a moment before finding what she wanted.

Eowyn brought forth a handful of Rowa berries, freshly harvested and put them in a small cloth to dry. In a moment she would feed these to Torrent and see how he liked them. They were much too sour for her, but Eowyn believed drying them would bring out a more mellow flavor for her steed.

After that small sidetrack, Eowyn looked around at the vast unexplored land and chose a direction at random. Torrent set off with a speed much faster than Eowyn believed mounts could go, and the Tarnished found herself laughing in wonder as Limgrave rushed by.

-

The Second Cycle

-

Eowyn opened the heavy door and walked out of the Hero’s Grave resolutely, spotting the Grace and Varre’s foul form instantly. She went to the Grace and familiarized herself with its warmth before sparing a glance for Varre’s patient countenance. She had no idea how he was here instead of dead and rotting, deep underground at Mohg’s palace, but then again Eowyn had no idea why she suddenly woke up in this grave in the first place.

Her last memory was mending the Elden Ring and sitting on that gilded throne, finally allowing herself a bittersweet smile as she thought her journey finished. Melina’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. The Golden Order was restored and Queen Marika would soon recover, fit to rule as goddess of the Lands Between once more.

But that was apparently not to be, as Eowyn woke with all her weapons, items and most of her equipment half submerged in fetid water beneath an abandoned gravesite. She no longer carried the Great Runes of the demigods within her, but all her significant power granted from hordes of rune shards was still present.

Varre cleared his throat pointedly after Eowyn got up from her quick rest at the Grace. Eowyn ignored the bloodthirsty man and walked down the sloping hill toward a large horseman in golden armor carrying a massive halberd and greatshield. The Tarnished didn’t know how, but it seemed her journey started over from the beginning. There were slight changes, her belongings for one, but she knew time had somehow reversed.

Eowyn gazed up at the Erdtree and marvelled at its flawless bark and leaves. Last time Eowyn saw it, the Erdtree was being mended from its smoldering, burnt state. Now it was like it was never burned at all. And that thought swiftly brought another. A realization both painful and full of hope. Eowyn rushed toward the Gatefront with single minded focus.

The halberd wielding tree sentinel swiped at Eowyn as she passed him, forcing the Tarnished to dodge. Eowyn gripped Okina’s wicked katana, the Rivers of Blood, and slashed unforgivingly at the armored horse’s face. Eowyn had to dash backward to avoid a quaking shield slam from the Sentinel, and then moved to a less defended area of her enemy.

After a few more frantic slashes and swift dodges, the Sentinel was defeated. Eowyn glared at the mound of ash that was once her foe as it was swept away by wind and picked up the Golden Halberd left behind. With that roadblock taken care of, the Tarnished moved on. She ran to the run down church of Elleh, but only stopped to kindle the Grace. It was hard to see Kale and not speak to him, but Eowyn felt she would have a moment later to see if her merchant friend was affected by her time travel.

Eowyn sprinted to the huge, heavily defended gate made of stone, mercilessly killing every soldier loyal to Godrick in view. When she arrived at the Grace, Eowyn quickly sat down and waited. This Grace was the same one Melina first appeared into her life, and Eowyn hoped that her beloved friend might return from death as Varre supposedly had.

The Tarnished couldn’t stop herself from smiling widely when she heard a tingling of blue mist signalling the approach of a cloaked woman. Eowyn looked up at Melina, hoping her dear friend would have kept their memories as she did.

“Greetings, Traveler from beyond the fog.” Melina said softly, her smoky voice piercing the wound in Eowyn’s heart that opened when they last met. The girl pulled her hood back and that perfect, lovely face was once again beheld by Eowyn. “I am Melina.”

Eowyn hurriedly took off her Veteran helmet, knowing its heavy weight could obscure her face. She smiled again as she caught Melina’s eye, but the maiden’s flaxen gaze held no recognition.

“It dost bring me joy to behold thee once more, fair Melina.” Eowyn murmured, almost too softly to hear. Melina must have heard because her head tilted in question and her eye narrowed as she gave Eowyn a long look.

“I thought you insensate at that time.” Eowyn heard her mutter, and raised an eyebrow. What did that mean? “No matter, have you heard of the Finger maidens?” Melina continued, ready to start her prepared speech and offer of aid.

“Verily, I have! Thou didst expound upon them to me in days of yore, Melina.” Eowyn answered, breaking through Melina’s predisposed behavior. The pale haired maiden stopped and peered curiously at Eowyn, who smiled kindly in response.

“I… told you of Finger Maidens before?” She asked, genuine puzzlement in her voice. Eowyn’s heart broke with the realization that though Melina was alive in front of her, this likely wasn’t the same Melina she knew.

“Pray tell, dost thou truly not recall mine presence?” Eowyn asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

“Tarnished, I’ve only seen you but once and you were unaware of my brief company.” Melina replied, her dusky voice laced with wariness and suspicion.

“Verily, this be some foul jest. What befelled me when I did repose upon yon cursed throne?” Eowyn said to herself, then she thought of something that would convince Melina. Eowyn uncovered her gauntleted right hand and the Spectral Steed Whistle shone on her middle finger. Eowyn grinned as Melina gasped and touched her pocket.

“Torrent’s ring. So, you do have it.” Melina murmured. Eowyn nodded in triumph.

“I possess it, for thou bestowed it upon me! Behold, fair Melina, thou art familiar with mine essence, for truth.” The Tarnished implored. The maiden looked lost, her eyebrows raised high and she kept looking from Eowyn’s face to the gold ring on her hand.

“How do you know me?” Melina asked finally. Eowyn sighed and smiled wistfully.

“Thou wert about to beseech me to escort thee to the Erdtree, wert thou not?” Eowyn asked rhetorically. “Verily, we have achieved such a feat once afore. And lo, we ventured even further into realms beyond.”

The pale red haired woman looked down in thought, trying to understand what this Tarnished was going on about. How could she have Torrent’s ring? What else does she know?

Eowyn sat in the warm light of the Grace and watched as Melina went through several different emotions, though only someone that truly knew the woman could tell. Like how her closed eye twitches when she thinks of her task, or how she clenches her fists into her dress when she is angry.

“Then it’s settled.” Melina said finally. Eowyn jerked back, not comprehending.

“What dost thou imply? Dost thou now recall my face?” She asked with a spark of hope in her voice. The hope was doused when Melina shook her head.

“No, I do not recall any memory of you.” The maiden said firmly and her hands were grasping the front of her dress. “Yet whether you tell the truth or falsehoods matters not to my purpose. I must get to the foot of the Erdtree and you already have Torrent’s whistle. Let us be on with it.”

“Nay, fair Melina, tarry a moment.” Eowyn cut in, her gaze imploring. “We possess all the time within the realm to fulfill our quest. Let us become well acquainted henceforth.” She proposed with an inviting smile.

Melina said nothing, but did not get up to leave. Her lips twitched before she looked away toward the Grace.

“I am searching for my purpose. My mother gave it to me long ago, inside the Erdtree. For the reason that I yet live, burned and bodiless.” Melina’s dusky timbre sung in Eowyn’s ears, though her subject darker than the Tarnished was hoping for.

“A noble endeavor thou hast, Melina.” Eowyn validated with a nod. “I shall strive with all my might to aid thee. Yet, I must declare, my cherished one, thine safety doth reign supreme above all, even above mine own.” Eowyn’s tone brooked no argument. Melina’s brows furrowed in question. She was bodiless. No harm could come to her.

“There is no beast or creature that could harm me, Tarnished. I have told you I am bodiless. My form is only visible at the Grace.” Melina said. Eowyn shook her head in denial.

“Verily, 'tis not true. There exist paths by which thou mayest be observed afar from the Grace, and yet a greater multitude of perils doth await thee.” Eowyn replied and held up a hand. “As we approach the hallowed Erdtree, thou shalt behold, fair Melina. Know this, even as a spirit, thy essence is ever known unto me.”

Melina peered at Eowyn and wondered how that could be possible. “You are a strange one, Tarnished. I have never heard of such an ability.”

“Pray, address me as Eowyn. I yearn for our bond to be most intimate and cherished, my fair friend.” Eowyn said, her smile so open that Melina smiled back without realizing.

“I would like that, Eowyn.” Melina said softly, then pulled her gaze back to the Grace’s flickering light. Eowyn’s smile widened and she got up to kneel with her hand facing out toward Melina.

“Then verily, our first task woulst be turning mine runes to strength.” She declared. “Our souls bond o’er thus, entwining our hearts together for eternity.”

Melina took Eowyn’s hand in hers while looking into her earnest blue eyes, surprised that she was serious. This Tarnished truly meant to get close to her? She had nothing to offer any longer but this token gesture. What else was Eowyn looking for in her?

Eowyn basked in the smoldering warmth of Melina’s hand on hers. The simple ritual stirred memories of her last life and all the times she’d held Melina’s hand just like she did now.

“Share them with me. Your thoughts, your ambitions, the principles you would follow.” Melina intoned, but her smoky voice held true curiosity. When Eowyn began to speak of her nature, Melina found herself listening intently.

Eowyn shared her past with Melina. How she explored a vast amount of the Lands Between and defeated the Shardbearers once before. She spoke of Melina as well. How the Finger maiden thought herself as kindling for the Flame of ruin, and that Eowyn had to watch as she made a pyre of her own essence. At this, Melina interrupted with a distressing whisper.

“Please, Tarnished, no more.” The soft voice of the maiden cut through Eowyn’s tirade mid word. The white haired woman gazed at Melina with concern.

“Forgive me, Melina. I sought not to offend, I just…” Eowyn trailed off, at a loss on how to express her plea. Melina’s open eye was stormy as she ruminated on Eowyn’s words.

“You have told me so much, and I understand so little.” Melina could not wrap her mind around Eowyn’s farfetched tale, and yet, she found that she believed her. Insight into her purpose and what it entails were known to her now, and for that at least, Melina was grateful. The reasoning behind her duty, however, was still a mystery to the maiden.

Melina stood suddenly, and regarded Eowyn with a tight smile. “Get some rest, Eowyn. You have given me much to dwell on.” Then she disappeared into a sparkling mist of blues and whites. Eowyn sat there numbly as Melina shimmered away with no further conversation.

Beats of silence passed as Eowyn stared at the spot Melina disappeared from, battling the melancholy creeping into her heart. Her closest companion had no memory of her, and now the Tarnished had to traverse this land once more with all her deeds undone.

At that moment Eowyn felt this rewound life cycle had to be something Queen Marika schemed as a failsafe of some sort. Perhaps Eowyn was not supposed to mend the Golden Order and convalesce Marika back to Godhood. Maybe there was a different way to conjoin the Elden Ring that released Eowyn from this loop. The Tarnished knew the one she wished next to ask. She quickly made her way to the church of Elleh for a second introduction.

-

“Here beginneth the chill night that encompasses all, reaching the great beyond. Into fear, doubt and loneliness… As the path stretcheth into darkness. Well then. Shall we? My dear consort, eternal.” Ranni’s soft, smooth voice rang out in the emptiness of the Erdtree’s interior. Yet as she spoke, a vision of the full Dark Moon etched with Ranni’s Great Rune appeared before them. The barklike, leaf strewn ground vanished and Eowyn suddenly stood on the surface of deep clear water spanning endlessly.

Ranni held out her azure hand adorned with the Dark Moon ring Eowyn placed upon her finger, and the Tarnished blissfully kneeled to behold her goddess. Eowyn wanted nothing more than to depart on a thousand year voyage with this beautiful azure doll that captured her desperate heart. Her journey had been long and strange, and Eowyn was relieved at its end. She stood and turned to the shining Full Moon that awaited them.

Lingering thoughts of her first and constant friend Melina clung to Eowyn’s mind. Throughout her previous life and this one, Melina was always there. Though most times silent and invisible, Eowyn eventually learned to feel the presence of the maiden. Even as a devout agent of Ranni, Eowyn easily fell into the close comradery with Melina that was cultivated by two lifetimes. The Tarnished would shamelessly push the boundaries of propriety between them, wishing for Melina to open up with her again and turn away from her fatalistic goal. The maiden was grateful to her, and thought of Eowyn as her closest friend, but still threw herself into the Flames of Ruin in the end.

Eowyn tried to stop Melina this time, even to the point of straddling her and holding down her arms above her head. The maiden kicked at Eowyn’s armored shins, eyes burning with betrayal. In their struggle Melina wrapped her slender legs around Eowyn’s waist and forced her into a scorching kiss. In her shock, Eowyn couldn’t stop Melina from tumbling them both over the edge.
Melina’s legs clutched Eowyn’s middle as she started a soft yet fervent chant as they fell.

“Oh Erdtree, you shall burn. For the sake of the new Lord. The one who walks alongside flame shall one day meet the road of Destined Death.”

Then Melina’s burned hands grabbed Eowyn’s face and held her close. Eowyn’s panicked eyes were frantically searching Melina’s features as their imminent death came closer.

“Melina! Please!” Eowyn could only scream in dread and excruciating sorrow. Melina smiled sadly and mouthed words that Eowyn couldn’t hear over the rush of wind. And she watched again as Melina burned for the Erdtree’s ruin, and her twisted purpose as kindling. And Eowyn burned as well, yet after the agony consumed her, Eowyn awoke in a foreign land outside of time. And no longer could she feel Melina’s presence.

Eowyn gasped, a sudden pain piercing her heart at the memory. Though she was in such divine company, loss and yearning for her sacrificed maiden threatened to swallow the Tarnished. She made no further outward signs of her woe, knowing her Lunar Goddess would not approve of persisting feelings for her whilom maiden.

She recalled her other most cherished moments during her quest as the last rites for the realm. Though many featured her azure demigod paramour, Eowyn found she made more lighthearted times with Blaidd, the half wolf companion she never met in her first life. The regret of being forced to put Blaidd down when the foul Two Fingers stole his mind burned within her, and the memory of his deep, barking laugh threatened to sour the whole of Eowyn’s present victory.

“Blaidd…” Eowyn murmured, a tear of remorse finally falling down her pale face. “Oh, my wolven friend, forgive me.”

Ranni gazed at her consort’s tear lined face with an emotion her doll form could never convey. One pair of her arms wrapped tenderly around her distraught lover while the other pair cupped Eowyn’s face. Their eyes met and Ranni poured affection for her consort into her spectral gaze.

“Blaidd understood his duty, my consort.” Ranni softly intoned, her cold thumbs rubbing circles on Eowyn’s cheeks. “I thank thee, for granting him rest.”

Eowyn closed her glassy eyes and remembered her time with her beloved half wolf friend and her erstwhile maiden. When she opened them, her eyes were filled with the perfect azure face of Ranni. Eowyn let her regrets fade and smiled contently at her goddess.

“I am ready.” The Tarnished Elden Lord said with finality. Ranni let go of her embrace and turned back to the pale looming celestial body.

Eowyn and Ranni walked into the Full Dark Moon before them and prepared to leave the Lands Between behind forever. The Tarnished sighed with satisfaction, holding the chill hand of Ranni and felt truly like she had escaped that wretched cycle. The pair of Empyreans glided through the starry night with the Dark Moon as their vessel, and watched as the Lands Between grew smaller below them.

Then Eowyn woke up coughing with a mouth full of dirty, dead water in that abandoned burial ground under Limgrave.

Chapter Text

One of the endless cycles

-

A creeping madness began to claw into Eowyn’s mind. When she opened the Hero’s Grave door and freed herself from its confines, the first thing she did was attack Varre with the ferocity of a wild beast.

“Do you even comprehend the gravity of this choice?” The white masked man yelled as he dodged away from Eowyn’s feral sword slashes. Eowyn screamed wordlessly, rushed forward and poured her will into a mighty Rejection incantation. Varre was blasted off the cliff where he stood, and Eowyn summoned the War Spear of Vyke as she leapt after him. Mad yellow fire scorched the White Masked man as his chest was skewered by Eowyn’s spear. He choked and breathed his last, Eowyn's hateful rictus glaring down at him being the final vision his eyes saw behind the mask.

Eowyn continued her murderous campaign. The golden Sentinel once again barred her path, and the Tarnished fought it recklessly with her god-killing armaments. The horseman was no match against her rage.

Kale’s back was pressed against the wall in fear and caution as he watched Eowyn stride fiercely into the church he made into his temporary abode. The Tarnished ignored the Grace and walked directly to the merchant before stabbing him suddenly with her madness fueled spear. Kale gasped and gripped the shaft of her weapon with both hands as agony raced through his chest. The flame of Frenzy called to him behind his yellow eyes and Kale surrendered.

Eowyn screamed as yellow fire from Kale’s eyes roasted her skin through her armor. Scattered images of death, mutilated limbs and a scorched Erdtree blinked past her eyes as the fire burned. She yanked out the spear from Kale’s chest and slashed blindly. The blade of the cursed spear sliced jaggedly through Kale’s neck and the merchant fell into a growing puddle of blood, lifeless. Eowyn breathed deeply, still feeling the heat of that maddening flame. And in a small place at the back of Eowyn’s mind, she relished its sweet searing pain.

The tree lined path to the Gatefront ruins was soon littered with the bodies of Godrick’s soldiers and any errant wildlife Eowyn saw along the way. The Tarnished rushed into the ruins, slaying every soldier on watch with a fury that could not be contained. Her impulsive attacks were dealt with deep wounds in repayment, and the mad Tarnished was soon gulping down the last drops of her Crimson Tears.

Eowyn limped slowly toward the innocently swaying dance of light produced by the Grace. She attuned herself to its warmth before dropping weightlessly, her wounds taking their toll. The site of Grace mended her body as she slept, her dreams plagued by the images of yellow fire and blinding rage.

When Eowyn awoke, a small woman in a hooded cloak was sitting there waiting silently. Eowyn slowly pushed herself off the ground and into a sitting position while never glancing away from the maiden’s calm face. Something about seeing Melina here once again infuriated the Tarnished and she glared balefully at the darker haired woman.

“Greetings, traveler from be-.” Melina started, yet Eowyn cut her off.

“Verily, I am well aware of thine identity, Melina. And thou ought to be damned cognizant of mine own.” Eowyn snarled, her anger honed further by the maiden’s lost memory.

Melina made a little gasp and her open eye gained a certain amount of suspicion mingled with fear. “Tarnished brute, how do you know me?” she asked, her breathy voice cutting into Eowyn’s heart. Eowyn removed her horned Veteran helmet once more, revealing a face framed by loosely braided white hair and contorted with fury.

“Halt thy folly, fair Melina! Thou art well-acquainted with mine essence, by the heavens! Arise from thy befuddled slumber!” Eowyn yelled, and made to stand.

“I don’t know who you are, Tarnished!” Melina said with vexation laced in her dusky tone. “Yet whether you were an exalted lord or a wretched cutpurse, I care not. I have a duty to fulfill at the base of the Erdtree, and Torrent lay in your possession. Will you hear my request?”

Eowyn glanced at Melina’s heated flaxen eye and her violent rage suddenly evaporated. The Tarnished sat back down and closed her eyes while breathing in deep. When she exhaled, her calm blue gaze focused on Melina. The maiden gripped the front of her woolen skirt, though her face showed no expression.

“I humbly beseech thy forgiveness for mine ungracious tongue and tempestuous spirit, fair lady.” Eowyn said with eyes cast down in remorse. Melina’s lips thinned, but she shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Now, I offer you an accord.” Melina’s smoky voice held a practiced patience as she continued, outwardly unaffected by the Tarnished’s outbursts. As she spoke of the duties of a Finger Maiden, Eowyn watched Melina’s lips move, mesmerized by the simple motion.

In every life Eowyn had experienced in this endless cycle, she always accepted Melina’s accord. There were times when she cut through her preplanned spiel with an impatient affirmative, but she never refused her beloved friend’s request. And yet, she never stopped Melina from her fatal duty. She waylaid and dawdled, but eventually she would always bring herself to that mountaintop to battle that hulking giant guarding the forge at its peak, as if pulled by an unseen force. And Melina would always be there with her. For no matter how much Eowyn wanted to protect her maiden, she couldn’t bear the thought of going on this journey without her.

Eowyn vowed to find a way to use her own body as kindling in Melina’s stead. Her mind went to her favored spear and what Kale attempted in self defense when she murdered him. That yellow flame gave her fleeting visions of the Erdtree burning. Could it be possible to use the Frenzied Flame at the Forge to burn away the impenetrable thorns that blocked the Erdtree’s entrance?

The heretical idea latched onto Eowyn’s mind and burrowed deep. She carried on in her quest for the Shards of the Elden Ring, all the while extending feelers for any mention of the mad fire’s source.

-

“I shouldst smite thee for ensnaring that soul's form as thine accursed plaything, demon.” Eowyn growled, her temper piqued. She trekked high above the clouds to the Mountaintops of the Giants chasing whispers of the yellow flame’s origin, and found someone there waiting for her. A spirit possessing the body of someone Eowyn met briefly long ago. She knew the one before her was not the same man. The disregard this spirit had for the dead set her teeth on edge.

“Oh my, why the long face? I fear you were acquainted with this vessel. That is unfortunate, for he is dead and his flesh a gift to me, Shabriri.” Shabriri, wearing the young ronin’s body said uncaringly.

“Speak plainly, spectre! Whence doth the Frenzied Flame cometh?” Eowyn questioned impatiently with her sword bare at her side. Shabriri didn’t spare her weapon a glance, but forced Yura’s face into a mutilated facsimile of a smile.

“Chosen Tarnished and would-be Lord, descend into the depths far below the Erdtree Capital. Seek audience with the Three Fingers and the flame of frenzy.” The demon of madness said with the mouth of a dead man. “Burn the Erdtree to the ground and incinerate all that divides and distinguishes.”

The voice suddenly boomed from the corpse’s lips, its dead face incongruent with the fervor of Shabriri’s speech. “Ahh, let chaos take the world! LET CHAOS TAKE THE WORLD!”

Eowyn journeyed back to Leyndell with the abomination’s insane proclamation ringing in her ears. The Lands Between will soon burn and then finally, she could rest. Destroying the entire realm in all consuming fire would surely sever the cycle’s hold on her soul.

-

Eowyn dropped deftly onto the small platform jutting out along the ancient grave lined wall. Corpses of small shabby men dressed like the mask wearing merchants were bunched into every available space. Any left alive to shamble aimlessly through the halls were granted a swift death from Eowyn’s blade. She gauged the next drop and fell at a certain angle. Her armored foot slipped on the landing platform and Eowyn was suddenly falling head first into the stone floor far below.

Right as the Tarnished thought the impact would surely kill her, the stone floor broke apart. Eowyn’s panicked scream cut off as her body collided with a mound of bricks. The air wheezed out of her lungs to usher in a fierce burning pain, but the Tarnished survived the fall.

There was a site of Grace inexplicably in the corner of the room before a long hallway that led to a massive stone door that looked scraped and clawed by huge, burning fingers. Eowyn reached the Grace and dropped down near its calming light.

Melina appeared swiftly in a cloud of azure sparks. Her face was set and her hands gripped her front tightly. Her soft voice was laden with desperation.

“Eowyn, I know what you intend to claim here. The Frenzied Flame is not to be meddled with. You will unleash chaos devouring life unending. This world, though mired in despair and ruin, still holds beauty. Births continue and life endures!” Melina’s overly warm hands reached for Eowyn’s and her golden eye shined with feeling. Eowyn looked down at her hands in Melina’s burning grip and back into her golden eye.

“Do you not find that beautiful, Eowyn? Do you not wish for life to continue to exist?” Melina’s voice rose, coupled with strong emotion. Eowyn shook her head in denial.

“Nay, for thou art far more fair than this realm!” Eowyn yelled, stunning Melina to silence. “Shouldst thou perish to grant it life, then I shall set it ablaze to naught but ashes!”

“I will see to the kindling, so please, leave the Frenzied Flame alone!” Melina said again, misery etched into her features.

“Grant me a solemn vow that thou shalt not render thyself as fuel for the flames, and I shall take my leave from this hallowed ground forthwith.” Eowyn challenged. Melina’s eye narrowed, and she held Eowyn’s steady gaze for a long moment before looking away.

“I shan’t allow you to speak ill of my purpose.” Melina said softly.

“Thy purpose shant be to perish, fair Melina!” Eowyn snapped. “Thou art no mere kindling!”

Melina looked down at her tightly wound hands and her vision swam with tears of anger. “You know nothing, foul worshipper of chaos.” She cursed the mad white haired woman.

“Nay, I know all!” Eowyn replied fiercely. “Whether thou dost leap into yon forge of ruin or no, this realm shall surely burn!”

Melina’s face struggled to contain an outburst of panic at Eowyn’s raving decree. The Tarnished stood from the Grace and Melina followed suit. Her face shifted back to carefully blank, though her golden eye shone brightly.

“Then our accord ends here.” Melina said crisply. Her voice carried a neutrality that clashed with the hot tears falling down her cheeks. “You are no longer fit. A pity after such a quest. But remember this, Tarnished. If you rise as Lord of Chaos, I will surely kill you, no matter how precious to me you once were.”

Melina blinked away the tears hanging at her eyes and stood straight. Her smoky voice held finality.

“Goodbye, my wayward companion. Goodbye Torrent, I am sorry you bonded with such a monster.” Melina gave Eowyn one more silent look of loathing before disappearing in mist.

Eowyn dropped back down at the Grace, her mood thoroughly fouled. Melina couldn’t understand that Eowyn was doing this for her! She closed her eyes in frustration and ran a hand through her loose fringe. The light of the Grace glowed behind her eyelids, and flashes of macabre scenarios rushed through her mind. An urge overcame the Tarnished to see the complete vision that plagued her decaying psyche.

The Tarnished fished through her pocket and brought out the searing melted grape like eyeballs of the frenzied denizens of an abandoned village and popped one into her mouth. Eowyn savored the burning flavor, and closed her eyes in pleasure as the frenzy flashed images of a world on fire through her mind. Eowyn’s tongue licked across her lips for any remnants that dribbled down her chin before gorging on another. The Tarnished feasted on the succulent and burning flavor of every fingerprint branded eyeball she procured just for this moment.

The vision of towering yellow flames was almost fully realized in her mind’s eye. Eowyn laid on her back and squeezed shut her eyes in an attempt to chase after the fleeting apparitions. Her gauntleted hands swayed in front of her vision and made trailing afterimages behind her eyelids. Eowyn’s skin was slick with sweat under her armored garb, her body’s temperature rising from being so close to her favored flame’s source.

Eowyn discarded her armor and weapons in preparation. She wanted to feel directly on her skin the searing burn of Frenzy. The mad woman walked toward the great double doors and placed her hands against it with crazed ardor. She gathered her strength and pushed the scorched, crumbling doors open with all her might. The opening grinded loudly across the stone floor, and pieces of glowing stones broke apart to collide painfully with Eowyn’s shoulders. Inside the dark cell revealed the grotesque and resplendent sight the Tarnished searched so doggedly for.

A giant three fingered hand clawed at the ground with digits burning with yellow flame. Eowyn beheld the Three Fingers of the Frenzied Flame with reverence as they flexed outward, a towering cross of madness. Eowyn’s breath came in short gasps as she walked slowly toward her prized idol. The Fingers writhed over her bare figure before compressing Eowyn with exquisitely searing flames. The Tarnished convulsed in the scorching heat, the ecstasy of the mad fire’s touch mingling with the painful etching of the fingerprints of frenzy upon her skin.

The Three Fingers flashed with a final burst of flame before dissolving into a shower of yellow sparks. Eowyn was left with gnawing images of everything in existence churning in a scorching yellow soup behind her mind’s eye. The vision was complete. The Tarnished knew what must be done hereafter.

-

Eowyn stood before the broken statue that was once Marika with a vindictive grin stretching across her unhinged face. She looked at the ruined stone head of her once God-Queen and lifted her armored foot. Marika’s head cracked and ruptured satisfyingly under her boot. Eowyn giggled madly before kicking the headless statue in its gaping chest. The figure broke apart in an explosion of gold and stone, strands of flaxen hair mingled with the showered debris.

Eowyn’s insane cackling rose in volume and pitch, until she was laughing without end at the top of her voice. Her head felt like it was about to burst and all her eyes could see was the yellow flame burning all life. Her laughter turned to painful shrieks as her yellow eyes were charred in their sockets. The pain behind her vision reached a crescendo and Eowyn screamed in agony. Her body became wreathed in fire and Eowyn’s face began to melt. The vision of fire faded to nothing and the Tarnished lost all cognizance beyond excruciating anguish. Her last fleetingly clear thought was a sharp regret that she would never see her dear Melina again.

The explosion caused by the Frenzied Flame burst the Erdtree apart. Pieces of its massive blackened trunk laid devastation upon the Capital and its fiery limbs fell chaotically across every continent in the Lands Between. Fire yellow in color and shaped like grasping fingerprints scoured the land. Consuming flames gorged on all life.

The Tarnished Lord of Chaos ambled down the burning steps of the Erdtree’s entrance unheeded by the cloaked woman blocking her way. Melina stood resolutely before the blazing figure that was once her closest friend and her sealed eye opened to reveal a bright purple iris. She took out her Blade of Calling and held the dagger out in front of her with both hands.

“Eowyn!” Melina shouted at the headless, manic form scorching the very air. The body turned to Melina and its arm reached out toward the maiden. Melina stepped back with caution and lifted her voice again. “No, you are just a devil wearing her body. I will deliver what is yours, fiend!”

The kindling maiden rushed forward desperately with a reckless thrust. Dark flames enveloped Melina’s blade as it flashed at the chest of the Lord of Chaos. What was once Eowyn slapped away the dagger with a deft motion and Melina’s eyes widened in terror. Her blade flew from her grasp and a searing hand gripped the maiden’s throat. Melina’s back flared with pain as she was thrown into the hard bark of the Erdtree’s interior.

“MEL…INA…” The fiery orb of yellow flames boomed with an echoing, high pitched voice that clawed at Melina’s mind. Melina fought against the choke hold at her neck and kicked futilely as she was lifted above the ground. The ball of fire leaned closer and its flames licked at Melina’s face and singed her reddish hair. Melina tried to turn away from the scorching heat.

“Foul flame of frenzy, you shall be granted Destined Death!” Melina exhaled as black spots appeared in her vision. Her sealed eye caught a clear opening on the fiery creature and Melina allowed the black flames once locked inside her to bloom forth. She grasped the arm that held her up and the dark fire spread across her onto the Frenzied Lord.

The shriek that emitted from the Lord of Chaos assaulted Melina’s senses and caused blood to drip from her ruptured eardrums. She didn’t realize her answering scream was just as piercing. Destined Death spread its obsidian flames across the grappling pair, devouring their lives. The black fire advanced past their charred skin, and onto the Erdtree’s ignited trunk. Slowly it ate the yellow flames and left fiery midnight in its wake.

Thus, the Lord of the Frenzied Flame was given Destined Death and perished. Eowyn’s vision of the world melting into one was finally realized.

-

The next cycle

-

Eowyn woke up achingly to the sound of hooves splashing through shallow water. She heard a familiar voice murmur something above her, and forced her body to move. Great resistance met her efforts and Eowyn’s flagging vigor faded.

“Melina…” A whisper escaped Eowyn’s lips as she struggled. One bruised eye opened to see the maiden peering at her curiously, yet making no moves to assist her or to leave. Eowyn compelled her throbbing body to do something, anything, so she could see Melina again. She managed to flip over to her back and hissed as her armor pinched and rubbed at her skin in recompense.

“This Tarnished is most strange, Torrent. Why would you choose her, I wonder. ” Melina said quietly, looking back at her steed. Eowyn gazed up at Melina’s hooded face and any lingering anger she had for the maiden, and even the Lands Between as a whole vanished. The flame of Frenzy scoured her mind in her last life, leaving only her base thoughts and feelings. All Eowyn had left was an immense joy of a cycle renewed and a fierce, binding adoration for her once dear maiden.

She sat up with a monumental effort that left her lightheaded, and turned slowly to regard Melina. The maiden waited by her side then silently took her arm to help her stand.

Melina narrowed her eye at the Tarnished, wondering how she could know her name. To speak to her with such familiarity made Melina suspicious, but when she looked into the eyes of this tall, white haired beauty, there was a recognition that couldn’t be denied. Melina looked closer and saw an unfathomable sorrow as well.

“O fair maiden of mine heart, how might thou ever grant me pardon for mine grievous transgressions?” Eowyn uttered softly, taking Melina’s hands into hers. Her cerulean eyes smoldered with deep regret. To wake from such a horrid end caused by her hubris and rotten thoughts racked the Tarnished with guilt.

“What do you mean, Tarnished? How do you know me?” Melina asked instead of answering Eowyn’s question. That was the third time in three lifetimes Eowyn heard that question fall from Melina’s lips and it pierced the same hole in her heart as it did twice before. Yet Melina did not remove her hands from her grasp.

“Thou art mine precious maiden and closest friend. Time hath no sway o’er our bond.” Eowyn declared fervently, her blue eyes stormy. Even if her maiden didn’t remember her, Eowyn would make cherished memories with her yet again, endlessly. Never could her last life be repeated.

-

The Tarnished and her maiden lay on a grassy expanse with the majestic view of Raya Lucaria Academy before them. The warmth of the Grace soothed their tired limbs and Eowyn lazily watched as Boc, her demihuman seamster, darned one of her cloaks with a satisfied smile on his furry face. Melina was dutifully refilling her Flasks of Tears, and another woman, a beautiful maiden wearing a blindfold named Hyetta, was sitting as close to Eowyn as she could without being on her lap.

Eowyn was wearing a soft, faded red tunic with knee high traveling boots and nothing covering her hands. Her pale thighs were exposed to a gentle breeze that made her hair sway past her eyes. She pushed the free strands behind her ear before hearing something disturbing come from Hyetta’s lips.

“Hyetta, prithee, forsake thy quest for yon grapes. They shall deliver naught but sorrow upon thee.” Eowyn said, when she heard the girl talk of eating grapes with fingerprints lining their surface and seeing a strange, compelling light behind her eyes. Eowyn didn’t want anyone following down that road. Especially a woman as kind and lovely as Hyetta.

“That cannot be possible. The grapes given to me by all those people… I see a light. It must be my fate to taste more of them.” Hyetta denied as she shook her blindfolded head. Eowyn sat up and softly took Hyetta’s hands into her own. Melina stopped and looked to them, wondering what her Tarnished would do. Hyetta’s face was dusted pink, but she gripped Eowyn’s hands just as firmly in return.

“Hark, fair Hyetta, though our paths hast crossed but now, I possess knowledge of yon vile grapes. Abandon thy desire, my dear. Only woe shall follow.” Eowyn told the blind woman. When Hyetta still appeared adamant, Eowyn changed tact.

“Shouldst thou desire illumination, grant me leave to attempt an art that might aid thee.” The Tarnished offered, and squeezed Hyetta’s hands gently. The blind maiden looked toward her voice in awe.

“What would you attempt? I do not wish to harm anyone.” Hyetta said nervously. Eowyn lifted her hands to her lips and kissed them softly.

“Fret not, mine fair companion. I shall not bring harm upon any soul.” Eowyn whispered, and let go of Hyetta’s hands to stand up, taking the Frenzied Flame Seal into her grip. The sightless young woman kept her hands in the air where Eowyn left them, and the Tarnished kindly moved them back to her lap. Then Eowyn gently placed her hands on the sides of the woman’s face where the blindfold was tied.

“Might I remove this, Hyetta? For but a moment, I vow.” Eowyn asked the maiden. Hyetta stuttered a response with a red face before nodding shyly. Eowyn tugged the blindfold off Hyetta’s face and gasped. Hyetta was gorgeous. She had big, pale gold eyes paired with a button nose and full lips on a heart shaped face. The Tarnished knew she was a beauty with the blindfold, but that didn’t compare to when it was taken off.

“Close thine eyes, Hyetta.” Eowyn told the unseeing woman. When she closed her eyes, Eowyn touched Hyetta’s eyelids with her hands and attuned herself to the sensation. Slowly, the Tarnished moved her hands away from the woman and held her arms straight out at her sides. Eowyn focused on Hyetta’s eyes and recalled a certain powerful incantation.

The Law of Regression incantation commanded the threads of reality within the radius of Eowyn’s grasp of power. Her arms shifted with one steady movement, left arm down and right arm up. And coupled with Eowyn immense will and exalted knowledge of the Law, the gold light that exploded outward from her flowed through Hyetta.

And then the Law that shaped Hyetta’s blindness since birth regressed and changed. Eowyn saw the moment Hyetta’s eyesight was restored. Pale gold irises suddenly shone with a deep aureate color. Hyetta gasped and her newly healed eyes swam with joyous tears.

“You… you healed my eyes! I’ve been blind since birth and you healed me!” Hyetta cried, standing up and rushing to Eowyn. She embraced the Tarnished tightly and wept as Eowyn returned her embrace with sincere affection.

“I knew you were a great woman, Master, but I didn’t know you were a miracle worker as well!” Boc claimed excitedly, seeing Hyetta spin around and take in the lovely view of Liurnia.

“Oh thank you Eowyn! May the blessings of the Fingers be upon you!” Hyetta exclaimed before grasping Eowyn’s face and pressing a searing kiss onto her lips. Melina stood up quickly and moved toward them, her open eye narrowed dangerously.

“That would be quite enough, Hyetta.” She said sharply, and the newly healed maiden broke away from Eowyn with a stammering apology. Eowyn smothered a grin before raising an eyebrow at Melina. Her maiden looked away, her lips pursed.

“Pray tell, fair Hyetta, shalt thou now forsake those loathsome grapes?” Eowyn asked the cheerful woman. Hyetta stopped her animated frolicking and turned to Eowyn with a great smile.

“If that is what you wish, of course I will. I vow to never taste another fingerprint grape for as long as you wish, my Lady Eowyn.” Hyetta pledged with a formal bow. Eowyn beamed at the bright eyed woman, satisfied with her oath and overjoyed to see her miracle actually produce change.

Eowyn knew what she must do this cycle. There were many others that needed her aid throughout the Lands Between. The Tarnished remembered helping some of them, though her aid sometimes led them to their deaths. She vowed to do whatever she could to keep everyone alive and make a permanent change in the world. Perhaps then, she would be free of this endless repetition her existence had become.

Chapter Text

Eowyn relaxed at the site of Grace in Skyhold’s courtyard with a Warming Stone at her feet. Pilgrims and zealots would periodically come close to gaze in reverence. They did not yet accost her for aid or healing, as just walking by would mend any small cuts or bruises. The Tarnished Inquisitor ran her hands through her long, white hair before styling it in one loose braid going down her shoulder.

She wore freshly cleaned and burnished Mausoleum Knight armor, but with simple dark leather boots tied to the knee. She had already seen several curious looks about the large decorated crest on her front and the ornamental steel wings curving up from her back. For now, let the onlookers all believe the tower and bell means Skyhold, or even the Chantry. They need not know its true meaning.

Upon her brow was the golden circlet Eowyn tended to wear frequently since obtaining it in Enir-Ilim. It was crafted in remembrance of Miquella, yet Eowyn sought to make its lustre her own. There are times when the Tarnished wondered if her compassion truly came from her heart, or if it were a lingering vestige of Miquella’s discarded Great Rune. Or if this crown about her head was the source of her kindness, and nothing of what she felt for these people, this Inquisition, was true. Once again, Eowyn shook her head to cast the thought from her mind.

The Inquisitor focused on a single person’s essence in Skyhold, letting the presence of all others fade from her senses. There was a boy here at Skyhold. Eowyn had a faint memory of meeting him at Haven, then nothing since. Yet a reminder of him jumped to the forefront of Eowyn’s mind when she heard a servant talk of food being taken from someone whose face they couldn’t remember. She pledged to seek out that young man and thank him for his late warning and aid in battle at Haven, if nothing else.

Eowyn caught a whisper of the boy’s presence inside Skyhold castle, but when she opened her cerulean eyes, he was standing next to her. The young man was tall, though he measured up no higher than Eowyn’s nose. He had pale yellow hair and bright eyes. He looked no older than twenty years, though that meant nothing to the Tarnished. She was sure her life was centuries in length by this point, yet her youth seemed everlasting. He sat near the Inquisitor and looked closely at her in plain curiosity.

“You make them stop hurting.” The boy’s voice was low but full of feeling. “Magic that’s not magic from beyond the Fade, but you’re real.”

“Verily, I am true as the stars. Art thou real, boy?” Eowyn asked, peering at him as though he were going to disappear. She was certain now that she had felt his presence near her several times in Skyhold though she did not see him. It seemed this sprite-like boy would rather be invisible more often than not.

“I am now.” The young man’s tone was blank as he pulled himself into another memory. “A templar proved I wasn’t real, and I lost my friends. I lost everything. But I learned how to be more, to be real. I can help now.” The boy’s way of speech was meandering, but poetic. Eowyn found his company soothing, almost familiar though she didn’t quite understand what he meant.

“Thine name be Cole, is it not?” Eowyn asked. “Why didst thou desire for me to forsake your memory?”

Cole looked away from Eowyn and watched the people of Skyhold go about their business for a while before answering.

“It’s easier when they forget. I can help, but most don’t understand when they see me.” Cole answered dejectedly.

“I shan't forget thee, Cole. Thine aid at Haven shall be commended. Dost thou wish to reside here, within Skyhold?” Eowyn proposed to the boy. She peered at Cole as his face went through what looked like hope and discomfort all at once.

“Helping, yes. You heal the hurt and people come to you. I want to heal, ” Cole said before he suddenly turned his head toward her and his bright eyes went glassy.

“Why was it here, in Marika’s bedchambers before the Erdtree? Holding that deep, dark deathly rune. Now she will never need to die again.” Cole said as if reciting lines from a play, unknowing of his own reach.

Eowyn’s eyes widened and she froze as Cole extracted a long buried memory in her mind. The loneliness and agony of that moment felt as real as it did when the memory was made. Eowyn clutched her middle and her head dipped down to her chest. Flashes of battling beastial Maliketh and seeing the sacred Erdtree burning to ash spun behind her eyelids. Melina falling into that broiling chasm a thousand different ways…

“Prithee Cole, cease your fell magic.” Eowyn whispered, her voice echoing the pain of that moment. Cole stopped his strange monologue mid word. He paused for a moment, watching her, before he spoke again.

“I wanted to help, but you carry so much pain. I don’t always say the right thing.” Cole’s boyish voice drowned in melancholy. He fidgeted and absently started to pull at the grass. Eowyn did not know what he truly was, but she did not want Cole to change into something wrong due to her suffering. Her afflicted memories were her own.

Eowyn placed her hand on Cole’s and caught his serious, heartfelt gaze with hers. “Thou shouldst speak as thou please, Cole. Yet this pain shall hide in mine heart. Pray, seek it not, for it shall consume thee.”

“I will not look into your heart. I don’t want to change. I like being real.” Cole said sadly.

“Care to rest by my side?” Eowyn offered with a tender smile. Cole nodded and relaxed.

“Being here is like the sun shining through clouds. Warm, giving, golden.” He said, gazing at the Grace in wonder.

“Always there is a place for thee, brave Cole.” Eowyn replied, smiling as they sat comfortably near the pool of Grace. The warmth of the stone Eowyn placed earlier soothing any hurts they had. “I shall have thee none other way.”

The spirit boy’s lips reached up to mimic Eowyn’s smile. With practice and perhaps more reassuring memories, the Tarnished knew she could have him grinning ear to ear soon enough.

-

Eowyn needed to speak with each of her advisors on what must be done about Corypheus when they gathered in the secured room that held the War table. Commander Cullen held his steely expression from where he stood by the dark stone wall.

The Spymaster Leliana stood near the table overlooking the Orlesian side of the map. Her hands were hidden behind her back as she stood prim, her dark eyes keen.

Josephine was looking at the map’s Ferelden territories and was speaking in low voices with Melina, who was now allowed into the War Table mediations at Eowyn’s behest. None of her advisors gave much resistance on the matter, as Melina was familiar with the basics of the playing field and a quick learner.

Cassandra stood near Eowyn, her eyes moving from the Inquisitor to the place on the map Melina studied.

“There were templars and rebel mages against us in that battle at Haven.” Cullen said, his armored hands resting on the guard of his sword.

“And a dragon.” Cassandra commented absently.

“I won’t believe both factions joined Corypheus so easily.” Leliana put in. “We need someone on the inside to find out their true numbers.”

“I have knight recruits that could be sent to join the templars. They could act as agents to give us intelligence.” Cullen offered. Eowyn looked thoughtfully at the map.

“Doth we possess knowledge of whence their strongholds lie?” Eowyn questioned.

“There is still the Venatori force at Redcliffe. They have heavily fortified the castle and all mages have been forced into service to the Tevinter cultists by a Magister named Gereon Alexius.” Leliana supplied dourly. “If these reports are accurate, their situation is truly dire. They are sending the rebel mages to Tevinter, most likely to be conscripted into their armies or sold as slaves.”

“I have been given word on templar activity going to and from Therinfal Redoubt in Ferelden. Their base must be there.” Cullen provided. “There have been reports of red lyrium being brought in that direction from caves in the Hinterlands.”

“I shall free Redcliffe Castle from the clutches of the Venatori ‘ere we set ourselves upon the templars. Verily, I ought to have undertaken this deed afore this time.” Eowyn claimed. Cullen protested at once.

“What? It would be too dangerous even for a whole fleet to attempt a siege on Redcliffe castle! It’s a fortress, and one of the most defensible castles this side of the continent.” The Commander dissented vehemently.

“That’s a hostile foreign power directly in support of the Elder One. No matter its defenses, it must fall or we risk the Venatori taking over central areas of Ferelden in no time.” Cassandra said, laying forth a grim future.

“If we can provide his safe return, we may be able to secure alliances with the Arl.” Josephine added. “I have been in correspondence with Arl Teagan Guerrin since his banishment from Redcliffe castle. He doesn’t currently have the manpower to take back his land. But I’m sure he’d be grateful for our assistance.”

“And how are we supposed to assist in taking back a fortified stronghold like Redcliffe?” Cullen objected. “Their sentries will spot any force coming before we even get there. Our troops will be sitting ducks for their arrows.”

Eowyn took in her advisor’s words and solidified her plan. “I shall embark with a small band of comrades. Perchance there existeth a concealed passage through which we may gain entrance and bring an end to the wicked Magister.” The advisors thought on the Inquisitor’s words before responding. Leliana’s eyes lit up with sudden insight.

“There is a passage out of the castle. An escape route for the royal family.” She said suddenly in remembrance.

“Anyone sent that way will be spotted. There’s no way it’s unguarded.” Cullen denied.

“They shall not meddle if they behold us not. Fair Melina and I possess the art of becoming unseen. My brave Cole doth share this boon. We shall stealthily enter anon.” Eowyn provided an alternative. Melina looked away from the map to regard Eowyn with a strange look. As though she didn’t believe she would be a part of the operation.

“This is true. Then once we are in the castle, none can stop my Tarnished and I from taking it.” Melina agreed, her smoky voice inflected with confidence. The maiden doubted Redcliffe castle had the defenses of a fortress like Castle Sol, with its teleporting knights and giant beasts blocking the entrances. Not to mention the impenetrable Black Keep that Eowyn subjugated on her own in the Shadow Realm.

“So then the plan is to send an invisible team to infiltrate the castle, find the Magister and take him out.” Cullen laid out in plain terms. Eowyn nodded with a small grin that made Cullen sigh longsufferingly. “You’re strong Eowyn, stronger than I thought you were at first. But this is a siege ready fortress with hundreds of soldiers inside. This isn’t something just one team can accomplish on their own.” Cullen implored with concern.

Eowyn looked at maps of castle Redcliffe’s interior drawn by spies at the Nightingale’s behest. “Fret not, Commander, for I hath seized fortresses like unto Redcliffe in times yore.” She said seriously as she committed the pathways to memory. “Ne’er have I possessed charts of the insides of fortresses I hath conquered. Verily, I am certain the Magister shall be found in the throne room.”

“These Venatori mages will be mobilized for war. If you are serious about this, have utmost caution.” Cullen sighed, knowing he was overruled.

“It may be best not to flaunt your status as Inquisitor during this expedition.” Leliana said quietly. “Wearing shining armor would clue everyone in the Hinterlands in on who you are.”

“That means I should stay behind.” Cassandra relented. “I am not made for stealth.”

“Upon mine return, I shall regale thee with all tales thereof, fair Cassandra.” Eowyn said playfully. Cassandra rolled her eyes and made a sound of disgust.

-

The Inquisitor moved about Skyhold with Melina, searching for a certain Tevinter mage. They finally found him looking through the book collection near the rookery with disdain. Dorian Pavus had a pile of books next to him and was actively pulling books from the lined shelves to add to the pile.

“Sir Dorian, what compels thee to make such a tumult? These tomes art not to be cast upon the ground like refuse.” Eowyn called from behind the olive skinned mage. Dorian turned around with another book in his hand. He glanced at it and grimaced before dropping it onto the others.

“Then why are so many of them about things no one could possibly care about?” Dorian shot back. “Their titles may as well be ‘Throw me away. I’m useless’.” Dorian tossed another book toward the pile but Eowyn caught it in the air. She glared at the irate mage, but Dorian went on blithely.

“Are you not from another world entirely? Why is your collection so pedestrian? I’ve already found five copies of Divine Galatea’s biography, but nothing on early Tevinter history or anything about your world. Hoarding them all in that pocket of yours, are you?” Dorian matched Eowyn’s glare with an unimpressed look.

“Thou hast ne'er inquired of me for a tome, and I have ne'er set foot upon this lofty abode. These volumes belong not to me, but perchance to Leliana or Josephine.” Eowyn explained with more patience than she felt at the moment. Giving Solas a scroll was one thing, leaving her tomes in a library almost anyone can enter was another.

“Is that why this collection is filled with so much Orlesean propaganda?” Dorian asked scathingly and took another book off the shelf. Eowyn snatched the book from his hand, snarling. Dorian cringed, and raised his hands in surrender.

“I apologize. That was unworthy.” Dorian said, contrite. Eowyn just shook her head.

“Tis not this matter that hath stirred thy ire, Dorian. Pray, what dost vex thy spirit?” Eowyn smoothed her face and peered at her Tevinter comrade with fledgling concern.

Dorian sighed and crossed his arms. “Gereon Alexius vexes my spirit, as you say. He’s the Tevinter Magister that took over Redcliffe with the Venatori. I thought he would have joined the battle at Haven but he wasn’t seen anywhere dead or alive.”

Dorian moved to the small window that held a view overlooking Skyhold’s courtyard and battlements. He seemed to be holding something in, and Melina watched the mage with her keen golden eye.

“He is important to you.” Melina said, her dusky voice causing Dorian to turn around and peer at her like he didn’t notice she was there before now.

“Was. Very past tense, but yes. Alexius was my mentor once.” Dorian revealed. “Got me out of a bad spot and helped me become the mage I am now. We were working on something truly amazing together, but he’d fallen out of contact. Now he’s a part of a supremacy cult. And I believe he’s still in Redcliffe finalizing some dastardly plan of his.”

“He doth be most fortified in yon castle, for truth. We shall prepare to breach the stronghold of Redcliffe and rescue the captive mages ere they be delivered unto the Tevinter Imperium.” Eowyn expounded upon their mission. She wanted Dorian to join them, as a mage would provide them with a well rounded team. Though Dorian may not be able to turn invisible.

“Getting into that castle is going to take a level of expertise the Inquisition hasn’t quite shown me yet.” Dorian said skeptically. “How are you planning to do it?”

“We shall expound upon the full particulars upon our arrival. Dost thou wish to join our noble quest?” Eowyn asked.

“You may be needed if the Magister invokes magic we have never encountered.” Melina supplied flatly.

“When you word it that way, why not? I believed those mages were lost to the Venatori, but if you are to rescue even a handful of them, then of course I’ll assist.” Dorian shrugged, grinning.

-

Eowyn’s small team of Melina, Cole and Dorian waited at the closest camp to Redcliffe until they were under the cover of night. They had to double back and stall several times throughout their journey to be sure none watching detected them. They informed the scouts at the camp of their mission with orders to act naturally and to avoid any skirmishes near the hold.

Melina hadn’t been seen since they entered the Hinterlands. She disappeared into mist soon after arriving at the forward camp with only a resolute nod toward her Tarnished as explanation. Cole did not say much as he traveled with them. That may be due to thoughts of staying unseen and unheard being at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

Eowyn crouched near Dorian in near complete darkness as night fell. They were near the castle walls, not yet spotted by enemy scouts. The mage seemed tense, and jumped when the Inquisitor touched his shoulder.

“Hark, steady thyself. Thou art overly wrought with tension.” Eowyn whispered, and held out the Concealing Veil, a small velvety cloth bundled in her hand. “Behold, this talisman shall shield thee from prying eyes whilst thou dost remain in a crouched stance. Pray, bear this charm as well to silence thy footsteps.” Eowyn held a small, dark and intricately decorated bottle, Crepus’s Vial.

Dorian took the talismans and quickly put them in his pocket. He looked at Eowyn, his eyes shining through the shadows. “How will I know if it works?” He asked in a soft voice. “I don’t have to drink anything, do I?”

“Verily, it hath wrought its effect upon thee but this very moment.” Eowyn revealed and saw through the dark the light of his eyes grow in surprise. A light sound like tinkling bells signaled Melina’s appearance next to Eowyn. The maiden was fully obscured by darkness. The hood of her long cloak covered her face, with dark garments underneath. Eowyn wore a simple blank tabard of a servant with no distinctions, bafflingly enough.

“We may need a distraction. There is a garrison of Venatori soldiers patrolling the route.” Melina uncovered, speaking so softly it felt to Dorian like the night itself was whispering in his ear.

“That shall be mine task to undertake.” The Inquisitor replied, her voice just as low as her maiden’s. She held her hand out, and something in her grip shone with a dim light. The Inquisitor recalled the incantation of the Assassin’s Approach, and every sound she made thereafter was muted. Eowyn then took out a small bell and rang it once.

Dorian gasped and moved backward away from the silvery blob that suddenly appeared in front of them. He watched, bending around from behind a tree as the blob spirit morphed into a picture perfect replica of Eowyn wearing the same servant’s clothes she did.

Eowyn took off her servant attire and was soon adorned in the dark, near invisible armor of a Black Knife Assassin. Her mimic stayed the same, however.

Eowyn moved to whisper in her mimic’s ear and it instantly got up and started to walk toward the castle, taking out a strange miniature cannon as it went. Eowyn signalled them all to hurry and follow her after whispering another incantation.

Cole moved silently next to the Inquisitor, and heard nothing, felt nothing. It was as if the woman wasn’t right in front of him huddled low and watching out for sentries. Her thoughts were a tight ball in her mind, impenetrable. Dorian was easier to hear, but Cole was warned once before on talking about the kind of thoughts going through his head. The Inquisitor was very clear that they were all not to speak overly much during this mission unless in dire circumstances.

Hiding in the night, striking out on lone watchers, this reminded Cole of his earlier times. Before he knew he wasn’t real. But now he knew. And he was going to help. These Venatori cultists were evil and if helping meant getting rid of them, then he would do his best.

The Mimic ambled toward the main gate with a blank smile on its face, holding the Jar Cannon in its grip. Several hooded soldiers called out on the battlements, their shouted queries about the Mimic’s purpose going unheeded. The clone stopped at the front of the closed portcullis and aimed the Jar Cannon. Instantly, an arrow struck the Mimic’s shoulder, but it continued to move its sights, searching for a weak point.

Another arrow shot into the Mimic just as it fired the cannon with a great boom. The explosive great bolt flew slightly off its mark, but still exploded near a group of archers on the walls. Huge stone pieces of the walls were blasted apart and flew in all directions as the men on top of the structure were blown back. The explosion rocked the castle, causing an uproar. The Mimic aimed the cannon again.

Eowyn grinned from her spot as she heard the chaos her Mimic wrought. She continued to lead her company into the castle through a filthy, cramped drainway. They were huddled close, walking almost on their knees through the mired darkness. A faint light wavered in the distance as they made their way closer.

A Venatori scout with a torch stood watch by a door that branched from the drainway. Eowyn, Melina and Dorian bent low to the ground a distance away as Cole suddenly appeared behind the scout to slit his throat. They joined Cole, put out the scout’s torch by throwing it into the ankle deep water that filled the sewer passage, and stopped by the door.

“Gather closely.” Eowyn whispered.

“Oh yes, let’s get close and smell the sewers on our clothes properly.” Dorian groused, his voice a murmur but just loud enough to be heard.

When her team was close enough to touch, Eowyn took out a bottle and spread a white mist into the air. The others felt a strengthening shell solidify over their skin. As the feeling settled, she called another incantation out silently. A cloud of Darkness came over them all. It followed their movements and concealed them completely. They opened the door leading into the castle.

Four Venatori cultists were inside the room. Two of the men were sitting in chairs by a table that held empty plates and a bowl of fruit. The other two were watching the door they just opened and were coming closer.

Eowyn crouched low and moved away from the door. As the men walked toward them to find out why it was ajar, Eowyn curved her path around them and got behind one of the cultists. Her Erdsteel Dagger, invisible to the eye, lashed out to stab one man in the heart. The man made a gasping sound as his lung was punctured. Just as the other men realized one of them was dying, Eowyn’s team set upon them.

Darkness swept into the chamber as Cole and Dorian darted in, taking the lives of the men who were getting up from the table. Melina shimmered in from the shadows and sliced the neck of the remaining Venatori. The company waited for reinforcements briefly, then moved on when no alarm was heard.

The Mimic outside was performing the distraction masterfully. Venatori in the castle were in a panic, running from their stations to find out what was going on at the front gates. Every so often Eowyn would hear a deafening boom and sounds like a dragon’s roar and glass breaking. Eowyn’s party quietly ambushed any enemies that came too close, but otherwise let chaos reign as they pushed toward the Throne room.

Eowyn reinforced the incantations that hid their movements as they got closer to the grand hall before the Throne room. They stayed low and close to the wall, moving as shadows flickering from the torches lining the corridor. A pair of hooded Venatori came into view, walking from an intersecting hallway. Suddenly it seemed like they fell dead out of nowhere. Eowyn had pierced them both with the near unseen Night Shard sorcery. They moved the bodies from the hallway and pressed on.

The team got to a large set of double doors with runes etched on them and a sunburst at the top. Cole snuck his way to the doors and put his hand on the runes.

“It is unlocked.” He said softly. Eowyn, Melina and Dorian came closer and they opened the door slowly.

There was only one person in the large chamber and it wasn’t the Magister. It was his son. Felix Alexius sat on a small chair near the opulent and empty throne. He was staring into the crackling fire grated behind the tall seat. He looked sickly, dark veins lined his neck and his eyes were bloodshot. Felix jumped when he noticed them and the chair scratched the floor as it scooted backward. Melina was ready to deliver death out of the shadow of the young man, but Dorian frantically motioned for her to stop. She disappeared away from Felix without a sound.

“D-Dorian? Why are you here?” Felix asked, clearly familiar with their Tevinter ally. He made to stand, but then grimaced and sat back down. Eowyn stood and allowed her invisibility to expire. Felix’s eyes widened in alarm at the sight of the Inquisitor garbed in the gear of an Assassin and appearing from the shadows. Dorian put up his hands and tried to calm Felix down.

“We aren’t here to kill you, Felix. It’s too late to save all the mages that were thrown into that battle at Haven, but we can still avenge them by taking down the Venatori here.” Dorian said, explaining their presence. Eowyn did not understand why their mage was so comfortable with this man, but she waited and kept an ear for intruders.

“So, you’ve come to kill my father.” Felix said grimly. Dorian had nothing for that, but after a moment responded.

“You’re looking rather worse than the last time I saw you. How are you holding up?” Dorian asked Felix. His usually flippant tone held true concern. Eowyn removed her hood and peered at the Magister’s son. He did indeed look grave to her eyes.

“What dost afflict thee so grievously?” She questioned, her Golden Order Seal already called to her hand. Felix looked terrified as Eowyn came closer to him, and leaned back in his chair as she looked him over. “Well?” She prompted when he didn’t speak.

“I-we, my family was attacked by darkspawn. I was inflicted with the blight.” Felix hurried to explain, his bloodshot eyes watching the Inquisitor with dread and suspicion.

“The Blight? Doth this Blight bring forth naught but death?” Eowyn asked clinically. Her manner of speech brisk and clipped.

“Naught but- er, yes. Yes, it always kills you, or rather, me in this case. So I’ve heard. That or you go mad and become a darkspawn yourself.” Felix answered glumly. Eowyn reached out and moved his collar to look at the black veins underneath. Her blue eyes narrowed.

“I might possess the art to cure thy ailment. Pray, all ye step aside.” Eowyn directed. Dorian moved away from Felix quickly. Cole and Melina had scarcely been seen since they opened the door.

Eowyn had Felix stand, her firm hold supporting his weakened legs. Just as he stood on his own and the Inquisitor readied the Incantation, Gereon Alexius burst through the door with a pair of Venatori swordsmen.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Gereon Alexius shouted in alarm. Then he caught sight of Eowyn near his son. “Felix! What are you doing to him?” The Magister bellowed, putting a hand on his staff. The swordsmen had their blades at the ready and seemed itching for a fight.

“Ahh, Alexius! I was wondering when I’d see you. Just dropping by, you know. I was in the area.” Dorian said in his most charming voice as he stood in front of the Magister. Gereon Alexius looked apoplectic at the sight of his former protege.

“Dorian! I should have known you’d be somewhere behind this bedlam that’s taken my castle of late!” The Magister roared, incensed. Dorian wasn’t fazed. He looked at his nails as if bored and flicked his eyes at Alexius.

“Your castle?” Dorian asked, mock surprised. The Magister growled and the Venatori came closer. Alexius started to rummage in his pocket for something.

“Cease your movements!” Eowyn called out suddenly. Her hand was grasping Felix’s shoulder, and she glared at the Magister, her countenance made more severe by the roaring fire behind her. Gereon froze as did his minions at his behest.

“Felix!” Alexius choked. “Don’t touch him, wench!”

“I shall tend to his sickness lest thou attempt thine assault. Dare to attack and your son shall perish ere your life ends.” Her grip on Felix’s shoulder looked to tighten, and Gereon made a little sound in his throat, his eyes bulging. Eowyn stared at the pair of hooded swordsmen. “Begone!” She commanded, and they gave Alexius a quick look. He looked at the Inquisitor so near his son and back at his guards before nodding shortly.

The men walked backward toward the door, watching Eowyn’s movements. When they went past the door beyond sight, Cole and Melina set upon them with a swift death to both men. The ghostly pair disappeared again, one to guard her Tarnished, the other to guard the door.

Eowyn let go of Felix and readied her Seal. Alexius looked frantically between Felix, Dorian and Eowyn as she made his son lift his shirt to examine the wound. The cut looked fresh even though it was weeks old. Dark veins spread from it throughout Felix’s body and pulsed faintly. The Tarnished touched the tender wound with her fingers, making Felix hiss in pain and Gereon take a distressed step forward.

Eowyn slowly moved her arms out to her sides and then shifted them in a peculiar, yet practiced motion, like a clock’s hands ticking counter clockwise. The Law of Regression had been enacted.

At once a massive triangular sigil painted itself in gold below her feet before fading, and a surge of power expelled from her body. Instantly, Cole could be seen crouched near the door, clearly visible. The darkness that cloaked the party’s movements along with their shield was gone. And the deathly wound that spread from Felix’s side had completely vanished. His eyes were a normal hue and he stood on his own, shock and relief marking his youthful face.

Gereon Alexius was beside himself. He ran forward unheeding Eowyn’s warning and examined Felix all over. The overbearing Magister kept looking at where the wound had disappeared, his eyes wide with wonder. Soon he turned his awed gaze to Eowyn.

“Who are you, woman?” Alexius asked, unfamiliar with the dark garb Eowyn currently wore.

“I am Eowyn, the Herald of Andraste.” Eowyn revealed as her dark armor shimmered and changed. Each piece switching instantly to the shining armor of the Twin Moon she was most recently seen in. Alexius’ mouth moved without sound as surprise, panic and awe overcame him. Dorian laughed a little at her dramatic revelation, making his moustache twitch.

“Do you comprehend what you’ve just accomplished?” Alexius asked, gravity in his deep voice. Eowyn stayed silent. “You have cured the taint of the Blight. I believed only becoming a Grey Warden would delay the effects, maybe give a semblance of a life. But never have I seen the taint cured.”

“Thy son hath not merited his woeful destiny. Yet thou art stained with the blood of thy deeds.” Eowyn declared ruthlessly. In the back of her mind she felt her mimic vanish. Their meeting here would soon end. Whether in peace or battle was yet to be decided.

Gereon Alexius’s face ranged through shocked, repentant, then resigned. He sighed, and calm eyes stared back at Eowyn from his tired face.

“I heard reports and stories about your time in the Hinterlands weeks ago, Herald of Andraste.” Gereon Alexius stated with an odd twist to his mouth. “So, you really are a healer. I thought it was mere embellishment of tales frequently told. Now I am very glad it was not. You have my sincerest gratitude.” The Magister didn’t smile, but his eyes held a great relief and a dreaded new burden.

Eowyn nodded grimly. The Tarnished wanted to accept the Magister’s thanks with a bright smile, but she remembered Fiona, the Enchantress that stabbed her when she dropped her guard. Eowyn kept her eyes on Gereon’s hands.

“All of this, everything I’ve done.” Gereon said softly. “All of it seems so meaningless now. I did it all for you Felix, you know that. And now, you’re healed. It wasn’t even the Elder One that healed you in the end.” Felix stared at his father as one his hands absently touched the renewed skin of his side.

Eowyn laughed mirthlessly. “Yon Elder Knave hath no power to heal. His might lies solely in destruction.”

“Father, we must abandon this place! We can flee from the Venatori.” Felix cried. The senior Alexius sighed again and shook his head.

“No, the Herald is right. I have blood on my hands. Too much to wash off now.” The Magister said, resentment belied by his weariness.

“You could show your gratitude to the Inquisitor by calling off the Venatori and leaving Redcliffe, after giving us the details of all the Elder One’s plans, of course.” Dorian proposed lightly. Eowyn’s lips twitched as she watched Alexius’s will to fight crumble.

“You’ve won. I no longer wish to fight you, after this miracle. The Venatori out there however, will not let any of you leave alive. Even if I am with you, they will kill me for my betrayal.” Alexius pulled down his red hood, a symbolic gesture that he wanted out of this destructive cult.

“Fear not. We shall escape this peril unscathed. Then thou shalt journey to Skyhold to await thy reckoning.” The Tarnished Inquisitor declared sternly. The Golden Order Seal flashed once more as incantations of protection were cast on the party and they opened the doors.

The Inquisitor walked out the double doors of the throne room into a grand hall surrounded by Venatori. It looked like every cultist her mimic didn’t kill was in the large room waiting for them. Cloaked and robed men and women of all sizes glared hatefully at the company exiting the throne room.

The Inquisitor signaled for Felix and Gereon Alexius to remain behind them, as her company lined up by her side. Cole took out his daggers and stood near Eowyn, ready to fight. Dorian moved to her other side and brandished his staff. A confident smirk resided on his handsome face. Melina was unseen, yet the Tarnished felt her presence nearby. Eowyn was unarmed as she addressed the platoon of Venatori in a clear voice that echoed across the grand hall.

“Shouldst any of thee be present under duress, thou mayest depart forthwith, and naught shall befall thee!” Her arms were spread out magnanimously as she watched for any deserters. A few of the cultists fidgeted, but none left. Some of the mages among them casted shields. Eowyn’s steely eyes narrowed and she breathed in deep. When she exhaled, her spread out arms gained tension, and starry, dark blue clouds formed above the group of Venatori. Shards of glintstone rained down upon the cultists, creating havoc as they all tried to get away from the onslaught.

Melina’s form appeared in mist through the crowd of panicked enemies, her dagger darting out to slice tendons and slit throats. Dorian casted a shield on himself and Eowyn, as they still stood near the doorway. His fire magic made a swift and intense entrance shortly after. Cole was a ghost unseen, moving through the chaos and taking opportune strikes with his daggers at unsuspecting prey.

Eowyn willed the sorcery of Eternal Darkness above her head when she spotted several mages taking aim at her and Dorian. The giant orb of the grasping void floated slowly, absorbing the magic thrown at them. Terra Magica, a magic strengthening sigil, was placed at their feet. Dorian was grounded where he stood, blasting spells madly with his staff.

The dragon hearts devoured by the Tarnished rumbled within her. The Lordly heart of Placidusax roared above the others, its might overwhelming. The head of the dragonlord shrieked into being around Eowyn, and from its mouth came a golden beam that swept across the great hall, vaporizing any caught in its path. The stone pillars lined in the center of the chamber were blasted apart by the bright energy wave, falling on several unfortunate Venatori cultists.

The remaining enemies attacked the company vehemently, and Eowyn called forth her favored Twin Swords taken from Rellana. The Inquisitor rushed into battle, crossing swords with a Venatori warrior that stood in her way.

The cultist warrior spun with his greatsword, his might uplifting debris to follow his slash. Eowyn dashed backward to avoid the devastating cleave of her enemy before darting forward with a decisive thrust at the warrior’s chest. The hooded Venatori blocked the stab with mastered speed, and counterattacked by jutting out his shoulder and bursting forward with a push.

The Inquisitor rolled sideways, dodging away from her foe. She stood and fell into a mystical stance, one of her swords pointed down and awash with crimson flame, the other blade glinting with magic and pointing up past her ear. The warrior brandished his great sword and came down with a vertical slash. Eowyn darted in and spun, her fire sword cutting into the exposed middle of the swordsman and pillars of flames exploded all around them. The warrior burned from cuts in his chest and was blasted backward by the spouts of fire. Eowyn hurried to stab both swords into the fallen man’s chest.

Some of the mages invoked blood magic and summoned demons to attack, then fell to the Blade of Calling in Melina’s grip. The demons were vanquished with much more effort required, their supernatural abilities a challenge and their hides the toughest in the wild melee. Soon, the last of the Venatori in the great hall were run through and the party was gathering close to the Inquisitor. Eowyn rushed to incant a powerful healing over them, unwilling for any of her allies to be hurt for long.

With the great hall silent once more, Eowyn went back to collect Gereon Alexius and his son. They gazed at the great hall-turned-charnel house and both looked green in the face.

“Where art the captive mages under thine thrall, Magister?” Eowyn questioned, tone austere. Gereon Alexius quickly guided them to the location where his men kept the rebel mages not already sent to the Tevinter Imperium.

Eowyn and her friends unlocked all doors to the wagons and cages holding the captives, stoically accepting any gratitude. The captives looked more than surprised at Alexius being present as they were freed. Some believed it was his idea to release them. The Magister was very brusque, commanding all captives to leave immediately in an impatient tone, but his face was full of shame.

When that business was finished Eowyn went to the battlements and made a bird call that Leliana taught her when she needed any scouts to converge on her location. Soon, they were heading back to Skyhold with a captive Magister and his frazzled son in tow.

Missives were sent to the Ferelden royal family with news of Redcliffe and the Venatori’s downfall from several different sources. The Inquisition would soon have some very pointed questions to answer.

Chapter Text

In the Lands Between, at the foot of the Erdtree

-

The Erdtree was dim, its outer bark no longer shining as it had since time immemorial. The sacred light that could be seen around the world was now absent. Throughout the centuries since the Shattering, the Erdtree lost its blinding sheen, yet it still held as the brightest place in the world, outshining even the Sun. Now, only the Dark Moon held any light and even its lustre had waned dramatically.

With the oversized Snowy Witch Hat on her head, the Lunar Princess Ranni gathered her followers to the diminishing light of the Erdtree she once cursed. Never did she believe she would be in Leyndell again, never mind being near enough to take a seat at the throne fashioned for her at the foot of the Erdtree. Truly desperate times had come to the Lands Between at the end of an age. Perhaps even the end of the world entirely. That was reason enough to investigate the strange happenings that occurred just before darkness swept through the realm. No longer did her plots or secrecy matter when faced with impending annihilation.

Ranni walked up the long ruined stairway, avoiding broken branches and pieces of stone still smoldering. What she saw at the top of the stairs was baffling, yet not unexpected. A gaping wound of darkness stretched across the once impenetrable thorns of the Erdtree’s entrance. The void appeared to have grown incrementally, swallowing the small statue of Marika that was once placed nearby along with the scattered golden leaves.

The doll-like demigod watched the hole devour the bark walls lining the stairs and swore to the stars. The Elden Ring created this anomaly. Rather, the Tarnished with the power of the Great Runes created it. Ranni vaguely knew the low born Tarnished that set about killing her quondam family, and that damned girl seemed the type to destroy the whole world to save herself. There was no trace of that foolish Tarnished nearby. No corpse of her or Marika lying around. Maybe that girl didn’t die when she made this maw in reality. Ranni wondered if this void before her was death, or if it were like a portal to somewhere.

Blaidd lit a torch and climbed the steps to stand near his mistress. The wolf-faced man gazed at the strange black void that latched itself to their realm. This kind of magic was beyond his ken, but Blaidd knew it shouldn’t be this dark all over the continent.

“My thanks for the light, Blaidd.” Ranni’s cool voice rang out, its echo devoured by the breach in the Erdtree. “Has Seluvius arrived?”

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s probably still down there looking at the sky for any stars that still shine.” Blaidd answered with smothered derision. They may serve the same mistress, but Blaidd held no love for the crotchety puppet maker.

“I will not have you speak for me, mutt!” An indignant voice called from the bottom of the stairs. Seluvius himself was ascending the stairway with a starlight spell lighting his path.

“Enough.” The two acolytes kept their stinging jabs on their tongues at their Mistress’s preemptive warning. Ranni never looked away from the microcosm while she addressed them. “Seluvius, examine this anomaly and unveil its secrets. Discern whether it is a portal to another realm, or merely another hazard. Blaidd, attend me.”

Blaidd’s torch lit their way down and out of the Erdtree’s interior. The pair stopped before the entrance, gazing at the flickering darkness that was once the bright golden capital of the land. Even the night trained eyes of the half wolf Blaidd could not pierce the unnatural gloom.

“What could have done this?” Blaidd muttered, rubbing the back of his head. There was an itch in his mind the wolven man couldn’t scratch, and Blaidd knew it had to do with that black hole in the Erdtree.

“There was a Tarnished you met but briefly in the Caelid Wilds, Blaidd. Do you recall a white haired woman named Eowyn at that barbaric festival?” Ranni asked, a clue for her companion. Blaidd looked thoughtful, his gauntleted hand resting on his chin.

“Aye, she was a quiet one, that white haired chit. Looked at me odd, like she knew me, but never said anything. She was the one to fell Radahn, and swiftly too. It was like the Starscourge was fighting Malenia all over again. It was all I could do just to stay alive.” Blaidd admitted bitterly. Ranni placed an azure hand on his side.

“I may have a thought on why that particular Tarnished gained such might in so little time.” The Carian witch revealed. Blaidd looked down in interest but Ranni went silent.

Measured steps coming down the stairs behind them revealed Seluvius was finished with his examination of the Black hole in the Erdtree. The Preceptor whispered his findings in Ranni’s ear, strangely unwilling to announce them out loud.

“My Lady, the anomaly appears to be a bridge from the Lands Between to another world unknown. My tests confirmed it to be minimal danger for one to cross through. I have no knowledge of what could be on the other side beyond open, breathable air.”

Ranni nodded her head in understanding, her large hat bobbing up and down. She held up a hand to stem the list of observations Seluvius continued to voice in her ear, and he stepped back.

“I have decided on our next course.” The Lunar Princess gazed at the world-eating portal resolutely. “Let us tread after that wretched Tarnished into the realm beyond this threshold. With the Elden Ring absconded, and this unnatural darkness obscuring the night sky, the Lands Between are of no more use to us. And so, we shall press onward to the next world.”

“We’re gonna walk into that thing?” Blaidd dubiously probed, looking at the slowly expanding dark hole.

“You will not question our mistress, dog.” Seluvius sneered from his place near Ranni’s other side. His masked face didn’t catch Ranni’s spectral scowl before it was smoothed over.

“Preceptor, have a care concerning thy language in my presence. Has my War Counselor arrived yet?” Ranni’s voice was accompanied by thundering steps echoing closer.

“I am here, my mistress. And I have what you asked of me.” Iji, a hulking troll with a helm made of mirrors answered as he towered out of the darkness. His massive hand held a strange orb with the miniature likeness of the Carian Queen Rennala inside. She still carried the golden egg in her bosom, drifting as if asleep. Iji gave the orb to Ranni, who gingerly took it with her quartet of hands.

“Now then, shall we?” The ghostly face of the witch smiled inwardly, as though recalling an old joke. They climbed the stairway leading to the caustic hole in the dying Erdtree. Without even a final look back, the Lunar Princess Ranni and her entourage stepped through the breach.

-

In Thedas, at Skyhold

-

The overcast evening ushered in its customary chill when the company of the Inquisitor returned to Skyhold. Dorian clapped Eowyn on the shoulder with a grin and a jolly ‘Marvelous job everyone!’ then exited stage left. Cole just walked to the site of Grace, sat down and disappeared. Inquisition soldiers took Gereon Alexius away to the dungeons and watched Felix vigilantly as he followed quietly behind them. Eowyn and Melina walked to the Grace and relaxed in its warmth. They made sure not to sit where Cole disappeared, in case he was just making himself invisible.

Eowyn sought to replenish her Flasks, then glanced at Melina, her spirits lifting with that simple action. The amber eye of the maiden caught the gaze of the Tarnished, rendering the rest of the world nonexistent. Nothing else mattered to Eowyn except Melina’s goodwill and happiness. If her maiden told her to abandon the Inquisition and set out on a journey to the ends of the world, Eowyn wouldn’t even need to pack. The Tarnished realized just then she never asked if Melina even wanted to be here at Skyhold.

The white haired woman held out her hand to Melina with a tender smile, an imitation of how her maiden turns her runes to strength. Curiosity burgeoned in the gold of Melina’s open eye, but before she placed her hand on top of Eowyn’s, the maiden paused.

“Tarnished, let us convene in your quarters.” She suggested, her golden eye sweeping the courtyard surreptitiously. As always, there were onlookers among those traversing the grassy area to other parts of Skyhold. Some would stop everything to get a glimpse of the dashing and kindhearted Inquisitor, so it was no wonder to Melina that people were already slowing their work to look over at them.

They quickly left the Grace to retire to the Inquisitor's private suite high up in the castle. Melina sat on the palatial blankets adorning the opulent bed watching as Eowyn focused on the wooden floor with the Elden Ring shining through her toned middle. The Tarnished reached out with her marked left hand as if the Grace were already there, and closed her eyes.

The swaying mote at light was pictured in her mind’s eye. As if recalling a miracle, Eowyn imposed her capacity and will on the exact spot under her hand. Late into the night the Tarnished stood there meditating while the Elden Ring flared and pulsed within her.

Eventually Eowyn abandoned the venture of consciously creating a site of Grace with an exhaustion that left her barely able to stand. She sighed tiredly and sat on the bed near her waiting maiden. Melina put a comforting hand on her shoulder, unbothered by Eowyn’s failure to summon a pool of Grace. The site in the courtyard was plenty now that she didn't need them to be seen and heard.

“Verily, I shan't squander further moments of our companionship upon a vain quest. I must lack a vital element that doth allow the sites of Grace to manifest.” Eowyn said, frustrated.

“I know what that vital element could be, Eowyn.” Melina said in a low voice. “It is death. The first Grace pooled in this world was made by your death. The next by the death of the Magma Wyrm.” Eowyn looked down, weighing the cost of making a Grace over another being’s life.

“I hold in disbelief that such death could belong to any common soul; nay, pools of Grace must herald the passing of some dread and mighty force.” Eowyn surmised. Melina agreed silently.

The Tarnished wished to put her botched experiment out of her mind, and so turned to her maiden and held her hand out like before. Melina placed her burn scarred hand in Eowyn’s open palm. A blissful heat suffused the Tarnished at their simple contact.

The Tarnished softly whispered to Melina with eyes focused solely upon her. “Thou hast beseeched me on countless occasions to impart to thee mine own thoughts, mine ambitions, and the principles I wouldst uphold. Now, I entreat thee in like manner, within this realm anew, maiden of my heart.”

Melina’s gaze grew stormy, and it took a long time for her to answer. Eowyn waited patiently, content to sit there beholding the center of her existence for eternity. When Melina answered, her voice was a faint murmur.

“I wish to remain here by your side, Eowyn. I want to know more about what happened in the repeating cycles of life you endured. For you to suffer such unending torment and still carry such valor and empathy,” Melina gave her Tarnished a rare smile, her open eye liquid gold. Eowyn's heart raced at the stunning sight. “Your nature makes me want to admire you, Eowyn.” Melina looked down in thought before meeting Eowyn’s eyes again.

“I hold but one ambition beyond that mystery. To aid you in bringing your order to this world. Brandish the majesty of the Elden Ring, Eowyn. You are Elden Lord, no matter the realm in which we reside. Take your place as the compassionate patron the people of this Inquisition, and this world so desperately requires.” Melina’s face was alight with a genuine fervor. The dusky timbre of her voice conveying her honest truth.

Eowyn’s eyes widened in shock at hearing such a confession. Melina owed her nothing, and in contrast, Eowyn felt she was beholden to the maiden with an entire realm as the blood price. Yet here Melina was, declaring her loyalty to this star-crossed Tarnished unbidden. Even more, declaring her belief that Eowyn was fit to be a benevolent leader. The blue eyed other-worlder once again silently pledged her heart to the wonderful maiden before her. Eowyn knew she must make herself worthy of such a lofty ambition.

“Dost thou desire for me to assume the station of Andraste or the Maker?” Eowyn asked with a teasing grin. Melina gave her a flat stare, and the Tarnished fought not to giggle when she saw her maiden’s lips twitch. Melina then continued, and the fire in her voice smoldered.

“My principles have not changed. We must push on, however we must overcome our trials, and see the new dawn break upon a peaceful world unbroken by strife.” The light that suffused the maiden faded at her last words, and she shrank into herself, looking inward.

Eowyn put a slight amount of pressure on the soft yet scorching hand in hers, and focused on what Melina imparted to her. The ethereal connection between them as Tarnished and Kindling Maiden flared, transposed. A stream of golden light rose from Eowyn’s chest to cascade across her arm and into Melina. At that moment Melina gasped as the seal on half her sight unraveled, revealing a perfect eye of amethyst.

“How did you break the seal?” Melina exclaimed, a hand going up to her now open eye of deep purple. Eowyn was frantically attempting to keep calm and hoped this wouldn’t backfire in some way.

“I knoweth not. I only wished to grant thee succor. To turn thine spare rune shards to strength!” Eowyn confessed.

Melina’s head whipped around in all directions, taking in the world with both eyes. Wonder and disbelief mingled on her face and her left hand kept moving to touch her brow. Then Melina turned her gaze to her Tarnished with such awe and affection, Eowyn’s heart almost beat out of her chest.

“Yet another shackle upon me you have liberated, my wondrous Tarnished.” Melina praised with misty eyes. Eowyn gave her a sweet smile and her hand gently caressed her cheek.

“Dost thou know the reason for the mark that adorneth thine eye?” Eowyn asked, her voice delicate. Melina sighed and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Perhaps, it never did. I know my eye was sealed by my mother. I saw a vision of fire long ago, and my mother bound my eye with a seal until an evil day came that everything must perish in a dark blaze. But now that day may never come to be.” Melina expounded upon her history much easier than when they first met so long ago.

Eowyn wondered if Melina’s memories of previous lives were remembered as well. Then, forlornly she realized if they were, Melina would be unwilling to share such a close space with her. A spike of anxiety jolted through Eowyn at the thought. Would she surely be spurned by her maiden if the truth of her past lives were uncovered?

Melina moved forward and tenderly grasped Eowyn’s face in her overly warm hands. A blush instantly spread across the white haired woman where Melina’s hands touched. Eowyn’s morose thoughts were swiftly cast away. Their foreheads met and Melina’s dusky whisper drifted past the love-drunk fog that entered Eowyn’s mind at their close proximity.

“I have no regrets leaving behind the Lands Between, Eowyn. My purpose, twisted as it was, was fulfilled. Now, I have given myself a new purpose here, with you.” It was everything Eowyn wanted to hear. An exalted dream made manifest right before her eyes.

“Thenceforth, together shall we forever abide.” Eowyn murmured, and closed the distance between them.

Melina’s soft pink lips met Eowyn’s in a searing kiss that made the sanctuary of her private quarters fade away. Lightning shivered through Eowyn’s body and her greedy red lips burned from Melina’s touch. Eowyn brushed down Melina’s beatific face, her soft fingers trailing along her slender neck to the base of her arching back. The women moved so closely to each other they were as one body, connected by their embrace. And so their night was spent in each other’s arms, with Melina able to meet Eowyn’s cerulean eyes with her own smoldering amber and mystifying violet.

-

The following day’s Star was at its zenith when Eowyn and Melina finished debriefing the advisors on their mission to Redcliffe. Eowyn eventually commissioned a hardback wooden chair to sit on when her time standing reached the hour mark. Melina sat demurely on her own chair parallel with Eowyn so she could see the face of her Tarnished clearly when she spoke.

The Inquisitor was casually adorned in an altered Deathbed Companion dress hemmed to end slightly below her knees with dark leather knee high boots on her feet. Her hands were bare, and the brilliant Circlet of Light was yet again fashioned upon her head. Long, white hair was braided down her shoulder while the fringe strands framed her cerulean eyes and refined, heart shaped face.

The advisors all did a double take when they saw Melina’s heterochromatic eyes. Their questions were waylaid with her clipped ‘The seal was broken’ and nothing else but her flat stare.

Cullen cut in at several points throughout their Redcliffe castle story, mostly to get them to repeat something for emphasis.

“Wait, so you rang a bell and a perfect copy of you just appeared, and then it attacked the castle with a handheld cannon?” the Commander reiterated in shock. Eowyn sighed, and her anchor-bound hand went to her braid. This was the second time Cullen asked that. Eowyn was unsure he even heard the rest of her report.

“Verily, Cullen, I didst but convey that unto thee. I possess a Mimic Tear, which hath pledged to assume mine own form. They oft merely echo mine actions, yet I am able to bestow upon them rudimentary commands such as to strike or to accompany me closely.” Eowyn replied, ungloved fingers smoothing her plaited white hair.

“And you told it to blow up half of Redcliffe Castle!” Cullen burst out, rubbing the back of his neck and pacing. Eowyn kept her face stoic and back straight, but her marked hand gripped her braid.

“I sought a diversion and it hath succeeded.” There was a hint of challenge in Eowyn’s flat tone. Cullen searched her eyes for a long moment before looking away.

“I’m not sure Arl Teagan Guerrin would agree, Inquisitor. We may get word from him seeking reparations.” Josephine interjected neutrally. Eowyn fought the urge to shrug or say something flippant.

“You said your mimic pledged to assume your form? Can it speak?” Cassandra asked with interest, her sharp eyes glinting. Eowyn shook her head in the negative.

“Nay, it speaketh not. I can but sense its essence and base desires.” The Tarnished answered.

“Is it some kind of spirit?” Cassandra asked. Eowyn knew that was the true question the Seeker wanted to ask. The Tarnished wanted to tell her that yes, her Mimic was a spirit, but it is unconnected to the Fade. There is no danger of it becoming a demon, as it is fully under her control. But the chosen Inquisitor knew her people will most likely never understand her connection to spirits via the Calling Bell. This world had too much bad history with spirits turning into demons or influencing people. They would probably think she was an abomination.

“Nay. tis a being that shall live and die, same as thee. Pray, let us speak of other matters. Mine mimic art of no peril to any soul here, and I cherish it greatly. Prithee, leave it be.” Eowyn answered calmly. Cassandra’s zealous flare dissipated before it could truly grow. The Seeker nodded silently with a furrowed brow.

“You said you cured the taint of the Blight from Felix Alexius, the son of that Magister?” Leliana asked next, no emotion in her voice to let Eowyn know how she felt about that detail.

“Verily. I didst enact the Law of Regression and cleansed the foul taint from his body.” The Tarnished replied honestly. Now this would be a more comfortable topic of discussion. She watched her advisors' eyes widen at her admission with a bit of relish.

“What did it cost?” Leliana followed up. Eowyn looked at her, confused.

“Cost? I possess ample wisdom of the Fundamental Laws, enabling mine use thereof without the necessity of any sacrifice save mine own focus.” Eowyn stated as explanation. Leliana tilted her head slightly and peered at Eowyn as if she were an exotic bird.

“We need to study this Law of Regression. If you can produce the same results every time, people from all over the world would come here for healing!” Josephine exclaimed, excited by the implications of having more visitors seeking their aid at Skyhold. Eowyn’s bright eyes met Josephine’s with delight and they put their heads together to plan. But Leliana was of another mind.

“This reminds me of another matter that is at least somewhat related.” Sister Nightingale said, cutting through Josephine and Eowyn’s animated discussion about healing opportunities. Eowyn looked toward the Spymaster and motioned for her to continue. “I’ve been getting reports of Grey Wardens going missing. I believe it might have something to do with Corypheus. There was a sighting of one Grey Warden in the Hinterlands. If you could, Eowyn, please find out more there about this Warden Blackwall.”

“Verily, I shall assemble a company and depart at first light.” Eowyn smiled at the Nightingale. Leliana did not return her smile, her comely face worried.

“I will see to getting answers out of that Magister you captured. We need to know what Corypheus is planning.” Leliana reiterated. Eowyn agreed stoutly, and the meeting was soon adjourned for her to prepare.

-

The Inquisitor found Solas in the large Rotunda on Skyhold’s ground floor as she searched for her comrades later in the afternoon. He had climbed up the scaffolding and was painting a stylized white silhouette of a man with a dagger along the wall. Eowyn gasped in amazement when she first saw his work, fascinated by the paintings and their myriad meanings. The Tarnished was sure Solas had stories to tell about the scenes he painted, and Eowyn was quick to get sidetracked by the intelligent elven mage.

The Inquisitor walked to a large part of the curved wall dedicated to wolves howling under a large malevolent looking eye and a sword pointing upward. The white haired woman stared at the frescoes with interest until Solas noticed her standing there.

“Ah, my apologies.” The tall elf climbed down from the scaffold and stood before Eowyn, hands and front splashed with color. His face was stoic, but there was a fingerprint of blue across his cheek. “Painting, much like reading, is preferable when solitary. How can I help you, Inquisitor?”

“I beseech thy pardon, Solas, if I have caused thee any disturbance. Dost thou wish to accompany me to the Hinterlands on the morrow? I seek a Grey Warden there.” Eowyn said softly, put off by Solas’ closed manner. The hedge mage peered at her silently with his tumultuous grey eyes for a moment, and Eowyn felt she were being observed by something ancient. Then he blinked and nodded, the illusion shattered.

“Of course. I will prepare for the journey.” Solas said and turned to leave. Eowyn called out, making him pause.

“Solas, prithee, tarry a moment.” When he turned to regard her neutrally, Eowyn’s brow furrowed and she faltered. “Have I wronged thee?” She asked carefully. Solas tilted his head at the question.

“Not at all. I know that as Inquisitor, you have many responsibilities and I prefer not to take too much of your time.” He answered smoothly, but Eowyn knew of half-truths and lies by omission. Her gaze turned playfully demure and she looked in the direction of the door.

“Oh, fie. I wished to discourse upon the scroll thou didst borrow and if thou dost covet another, yet if thou art otherwise engaged…” Eowyn complained as if put upon. Solas looked surprised and slightly amused by her ploy. With a sigh, he walked to the table overgrown with aged parchment, candles and what looked like a grimoire with a skull on the front. Solas found the Academy Scroll and returned it to Eowyn.

“This scroll has uncovered the basis of how you perform your magic. It was a very fascinating read.” Solas stated. The Tarnished revealed the Conspectus Scroll for Solas to borrow next and he took it with a grateful nod.

“Hast thou been able to perform any of the sorceries it doth speak of?” She asked invitingly. Solas narrowed his eyes in disappointment.

“So far I have not.” He conceded. “I believe I need more time watching the stars. It could be that the constellations of this world simply hold no insights of Glintstone as opposed to those in the Lands Between.”

“Pray, wield this staff to summon thine sorcery.” Eowyn fished out her Glintstone staff and offered it to Solas with a sylphlike turn of her lips. Her clear, musical voice turned academic. “Prithee, present thyself to me this eve, ere the waxing moon ascendeth. Glintstone sorcery gleans its power from celestial bodies. Therefore, we must endeavour to hone our craft afore the audience of the stars.”

Solas stared at Eowyn awhile with unfathomable grey eyes that seemed to search into her soul, uncovering truths she unwittingly presented. He reached out and took the staff from Eowyn’s hand and inspected it provisionally.

“Learning this sorcery may interfere with my vesper walks in the Fade, but I will accompany you tonight at dusk. I assume we will meet at your site of Grace?” Solas said eventually.

“Just so.” Eowyn confirmed. Solas looked on the cusp of asking something else and Eowyn made an effort to appear open. The hedge-mage opened his mouth with a query on his lips, then paused. A little later he turned to her again.

“Inquisitor… I heard you have a bell that summons a mimic of yourself. Could I perhaps see it?” Solas asked, surprising the Tarnished with the change of subject. Eowyn held her Spirit Calling Bell out, giving the mage time to peer at its intricate design. He followed with another query. “How does it work?”

“Verily, tis called the Spirit Calling Bell.” Eowyn’s voice turned conspiratorial and she leaned in to Solas slightly, though they were alone. “Speak its truth far from the ear of the Seeker, my dear apostate. I toll the bell to summon forth spirits from their ashen remains. I possess a myriad of phantoms I may call forth, not solely mine Mimic Tear.”

Solas’ eyes widened, his countenance shifting from polite interest to passionate intrigue. He took another long glance at the Bell. Eowyn couldn’t hide her teasing smirk.

“Thou wishest to encounter mine spectral allies, dost thou not? Shall I toll the Bell?” She lured, and Solas raised an eyebrow at her transparent lead.

“If it is safe, then I would very much like to meet them. However, it may not be wise to summon spirits outside of the Fade, nor in the middle of a stronghold dedicated to religious zealots.” Solas countered cynically. Eowyn’s lips pursed.

“The chime of the bell be not too loud. Art thou oft set upon by intruders?” Eowyn asked.

“No, not so much. Just you.” Solas answered. The Tarnished wanted to balk at being called an intruder in her own castle. But Solas was the one to tell her about Skyhold, maybe this castle actually belonged to him. If that were true, the elf did not act like the fortress was his at all.

“Then let us toll the bell.” Eowyn replied. She changed the ashes she carried and rang the Spirit Calling Bell. In a blink three docile spectral wolves appeared and gathered around Eowyn. Solas stepped back in surprise at the speed they appeared, but held no fear of the spirits. The elf slowly reached his hand out to touch one wolf, and marveled that his hand did not slip through its body.

“These spirits are not from the Fade, I gather.” Solas commented. Eowyn smiled and bent down to pet the muzzle of one of her wolves. Solas watched the wolves for a time before kneeling to imitate the Tarnished affectionate actions.

“Nay, thine Fade bears no kinship to mine spirits. They wish only to fight by my side.” Eowyn continued to lavish her spirit allies with rare attention while she looked up at the fresco depicting the wolves, the sword and the eye. “Thine paintings please mine eyes Solas. Tis a rare talent in the Lands Between.”

“Painting appears to be a rare talent here as well.” Solas replied. He paused in between rubbing under the chin of a spectral wolf to peer into the distance. “I see it as a way to record the past, to share memories with those who come after. Oftentimes, paintings are like riddles of history. You must look into the mind of the one who created the work to understand what you see.”

Eowyn gazed at the elven man and back at the mural. The other paintings seemed more abstract, and the Tarnished struggled to deduce their meaning. She still admired the technique.

“I bide mine hour to gaze into thy mind, if only to unveil the secrets concealed within these wondrous paintings.” Eowyn murmured. Her spectral wolves disappeared into astral mist, and she stood up. Solas did as well.

“Your opportunity may arise sooner than you think, Inquisitor.” Solas responded mysteriously. Eowyn’s deep blue eyes met Solas’ stormy grey. The Tarnished studied the bald man, taking in his sharp, handsome features. His striking jaw and high cheekbones drew her in, and his melancholic gaze threatened to drown her in bittersweet grief. He seemed to examine her in turn. His searching eyes roamed across her tall, pale form with an interest that went beyond cordial. Then Eowyn blinked and hurriedly turned to leave. When she reached the door she called out to the elf, ignoring her racing heart.

“Remember to convene this eve by mine Grace.” And left the Rotunda. The Tarnished walked aimlessly through Skyhold, creating distance between her and that dangerous mage. She wanted to see Melina. And maybe get a drink at the tavern. She wondered if Iron Bull had more of that Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. She needed something strong.