Chapter Text
Fel'dhar, or Fel as his friends knew him, was the Inquisitor. He had been a skinny little nobody, just another hunter with chestnut brown hair and sky blue eyes. There was nothing special about him but fate had stuck him in the path of magic far beyond what he could even begin to fathom. He had then led everyone to defeating Corypheus and now he was leading them against their greatest foe.
Fen'Harel, who had been their ally in the guise of Solas, a man who now set about destroying the world. It was a hard thing to think of, the old elf having been a friend through out the entire ordeal with Corypheus but there was little choice.
That's why they were here. The Vir'abelasan had been whispering to him for the last few months, ever since Solas had taken the anchor – and his arm. It was telling him of this place, where Mythal's fan was hidden away. It, fan, was an elvish word and he knew it as jewel but the voices were telling him it was more then that.
They were telling him that it was the way to stop Fen'Harel in his mad quest to tear down the veil.
This was where it all pointed to. Some shrine that had been buried in the mountains. It had taken some clever work on Dagna's part to create a rune that was explosive enough to open a hole without taking down the whole mountain. She was a little too fond of 'boom'.
“You sure about this, Boss?” Bull asked as he peered at the cave ahead of them.
“Pretty sure.” Fel responded as he looked over at his companions.
He trusted all of them with his life.
There was Bull, the larger Qunari with one eye and a set of massive horns. Like usual, he was wearing pretty much next to nothing. Just some straps that passed as a shirt and his cloth breeches. A large double handled axe was strapped to his back but he was peering into the cave like he thought there might be demons.
Which there might be, knowing their luck.
Behind him was Dorian, the flashiest mage from Tevinter. He seemed to take the same idea of clothing as Bull, with his shirt looking more like straps. He was every bit the dashing mage but even he was staring into that cave with uncertainty. Fel was just thankful that he had come along as this was a little too close to Tevinter territory for the elf's liking. Dorian had agreed as it would be easier for him to explain to the Tevinter soldiers considering he had taken his father's position after the man's death.
Right beside him was Blackwall, looking every inch the Warden he had pretended to be. Complete with a bushy beard. His real name was Thom but Fel still stuck with Blackwall. It was a lot less confusing especially when it brought up things he did as Thom. That and Blackwall sounded far more like a hero out of one of Varric's books then Thom.
All three of them were utterly loyal.
“It's dreadfully cold this far into the mountains.” Dorian said as he glanced around.
“Perhaps you should wear something a little less... open.” Blackwall managed.
“Alright, regardless of the temperature, this is where the well said the artifact would be.” Fel responded to the group of them. He almost wished that Varric was here, he'd have some joke that wouldn't make him feel like he was walking them all into a trap.
Cause sure as a bear shits in the woods, this feels like a trap.
“How long is this tunnel?” Dorian griped as they continued to slosh through nearly ankle deep water.
“I have no idea.” Fel responded with his own irritation. “If this is a waste of time, I'm gonna...”
A purple shimmer appeared in front of them, taking the form of what could only be said as a humanoid shape.
“Oh great...” Fel sighed under his breath. He remembered the last time they had faced these things, or at least similar things. They had been the guards in Fen'Harel's secret temple that they had entered a few months back, in the pursuit of the Qunari who had attempted to assassinate several important people. Himself included.
“Ahnsul ema na sura amahn?” It questioned, speaking in clear ancient elvhen. “Min Dirthamen'dhru'an.”
“Fuck.” Fel muttered under his breath even as the voices from the well told him that it was indeed Dirthamen's temple but that Mythal's fan was still there.
“Did that thing just say something about Dirthamen?” Dorian iequired from where he stood. “I thought this place was Mythal's?”
“Apparently not.” Fel growled before he tried to think of some elvish words to respond. “Uh... Ar'an sura O Mythal?”
The thing seemed to halt for a moment.
“Ahnsul ema na sura amahn?” It repeated.
“Ar'an esaya Mythal'fan?” Fel hoped it would be that simple.
It never was.
The thing was suddenly swinging a phantom blade for his head. If it wasn't for Bull's quick thinking, it would have lopped off Fel's head. The Qunari yanked him out of the way, dodging back himself. Blackwall had his shield out and interposed himself between Fel and the spirit guard.
Bull had always been quick on his feet but Dorian was even quicker this time. Dancing forward with a twirl of his staff to send a shock of electric energy square into the centre of the ghostly guardian.
It staggered back and the others pushed their advantage. There was not as much room to move in the tunnel but his companions were more then capable of dealing with it. Without his bow arm, Fel was utterly useless in the fight. He had to rely on them.
Fire lit up along Bull's axe as he swung into the thing, Dorian channelling magic to get the job done. It was mere seconds and the fight was done but Bull turned and gave him a rather scolding kind of look.
“Next time Boss, how about you tell Dorian or me what to say so that you're not within swinging range?”
“I'm not a child, I can take care of myself.” Fel said with an annoyed grunt as he pushed past them and strode further into the tunnel.
Fel felt his ears burning as he walked. He had never needed to rely on anyone growing up, from the moment he first learned to shoot a bow, he had been on his own. Now, he was forced to rely on them. They were his friends but it had only been a few months since he'd lost his arm. It was a wound that still stung a little, mostly to his pride.
He was so caught up in being ashamed at being useless that he nearly tripped when the ground gave way to paved stone. Apparently there had been a gradual incline upwards as there was no more water lapping at his feet.
“The hell?” He heard Blackwall bringing up the rear as they all caught up to him.
“Apparently we're inside Dirthamen's temple.” Fel said with a sigh as they walked. “The well still says this is the place but I have no idea why something belonging to Mythal would be here in one of Dirthamen's temples.”
“Perhaps he stole it?” Bull provided and they all looked at him in surprise. “What? I'm sure plenty of people stole things back in those days.”
“You're probably right.” Fel said. “I just hope there are no more guards.”
“Probably not, as it seems there were meant to be other protectors.” Dorian said as he grabbed Fel's arm and motioned with his head towards a few skeletal remains tucked into a small alcove.
Bull moved over to get a closer look but the bones crumbled beneath his hands.
“Looks like these have been here for a long time.” Bull glanced up at the three of them. “Looks like the same type of armour the Sentinels were wearing at the Well. Just... not in the same style.”
Fel understood the patterns on the armour. The ones at the temple hadn't really worn any definite markings but these were all marked with Dirthamen's symbol. He had a feeling that these were meant to be guards just as the Vir'abelasan's Sentinels had been.
“Looks like they were sealed in here.” Fel mused.
“Poor bastards.” Blackwall added.
They turned and continued down the tunnel which was becoming more and more hall like as they walked. Fel was really not liking that, it just made him feel weird to be travelling through halls that his ancestors would have walked thousands of years ago.
The walls finally cave way to the same sort of stone that the floor was made of. Another few minutes of walking and they started making out murals on the walls.
“Was he a patron of the fine arts, I wonder?” Dorian questioned.
“More like full of himself.” Fel responded before motioning to one to his right. “That one in particular is of a bunch of elves bowing to him in worship.”
“Ah, I see it now.” Dorian said. “The naked ones are his followers and he's supposed to be that weird shape surrounded by the birds. This artwork is atrocious.”
“Yeah, those would be the ravens Fear and Deceit.” Fel responded as they continued to walk. “That shape is supposed to be him kneeling.”
“I agree with Dorian, looks more like a weird shape.” Blackwall mumbled.
Fel didn't argue with them. He just knew what the lore was. He didn't much care for the ancient Evanuris as he had learned the truth but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be respectful when they had no clue where the being was. After all, Dirthamen was supposed to be one of the most powerful mages who ever lived and he was not keen on pissing one of those off.
He called a halt as the got to a door.
“Dorian?” He asked as he motioned to it.
Dorian made a noise under his breath and approached the door. One hand resting against it as he closed his eyes. Fel knew he was sensing with his magic and just waited.
“Feels fine.” Dorian responded as he opened the door. “Totally fine.”
Bull grunted under his breath before pushing aside the mage and walking through. Fel quirked an eyebrow at Dorian who just sighed and followed after Bull.
“I believe they're having some... issues.” Blackwall said with a chuckle before motioning for Fel to lead the way. “After you, Inquisitor.”
“You don't need to keep calling me that. Fel is just fine, you know.” Fel shook his head as he followed after the other two.
“Maybe one day.” Blackwall said with a laugh.
Fel found his way impeded by Bull's overly large form.
“Hold up. Dorian's checking out something.”
Dorian was up ahead a few steps and was slowly skirting the edge of what looked like a giant circle. At the centre there was what looked like a giant sarcophagus. Fel really hoped it wasn't one cause that usually meant a revenant. He was not in the mood for fighting the undead today.
“Look at those runes.” Dorian mused as he walked. “I recognize a few of them, those are binding runes.”
“That's probably not a good thing.” Bull answered him.
“It all depends on what they were for, amatus.” Dorian responded.
The whisper came unbidden to his mind. The voices from the well telling him what it was for, or at least as much as he could figure as he didn't recognize all the words that suddenly went through his head.
“To keep... something confined.” Fel said with a shake of his head.
“Well, generally that's what a binding rune is used for.” Dorian said with a slight cackle.
“No, not like that.” Fel frowned as he edged towards the runes. “I think... I think I have no void damn idea what the voices are trying to say.”
“Well, give me a few minutes and I will have the circle for this undone.” Dorian said with confidence. “Bull, do you mind waiting over here just in case something pops out. You stay over there with Fel, Blackwall.”
Everyone nodded and went to their respective places as Fel watched Dorian perform magic.
Fel was about as magically gifted as a rock and totally fine with that. He had gotten a brief taste of that kind of power when he had the anchor but he was definitely fine with being as un-magic as an elf could get.
“Have you guys noticed this?” Bull called, drawing their attention away from where Dorian was busy to point at the ceiling.
Fel looked up and saw the tendrils of lyrium that almost looked like they had been encroaching onto the centre of the room. He followed the sight of them as they lead towards the walls and the murals painted there. Some of the veins of lyrium seemed to accent the designs but it was clear that it wasn't intentional.
“Is that... Lyrium?” Blackwall questioned.
No one answered as there was no mistaking the lyrium in the walls.
While Dorian did his thing, Fel looked around the room. It was set up much like any other temple would be but the place that was normally for worship now held the strange stone sarcophagus. There were no decorations on the thing, nor were there any runes near it. It didn't look like the things they had encountered before and it made him wonder just what was in it. Especially given that there was lyrium apparently growing out of the walls.
The walls had a variety of different murals. Most of them were of Dirthamen but there was a few that involved another Evanuris. Fel was guessing that was Falon'din as the two appeared to be close. A little closer then brothers which further proved what Solas had said before about the Evanuris or at least he hoped so as otherwise, that would be just a little wrong.
There was another mural that caught his attention and he took a few steps towards it to get a better look. It looked like Dirthamen, with the two ravens but he appeared to be holding a box of some sort. Beneath him, in a position that Fel guessed was supposed to mean defeat, stood a giant black wolf. It wasn't as artistically done as Solas' paintings but there was no mistaking that it was supposed to be the Dread Wolf being defeated by Dirthaman... and a box.
He was guessing that he box was what they were here for.
It took a while but finally Dorian gave them the go ahead to come forward.
“Alright, Bull, you want to lift the cover off this thing?” Fel asked as he strode towards the sarcophagus. “Blackwall, if anything in there moves, hit the shit out of it.”
“As you wish, Inquisitor.” Blackwall responded as he positioned himself at an angle that would let him use his mace to the best of his ability.
Dorian took up a position at the foot of the sarcophagus, ready with a spell in case it was needed. Blackwall would buy him enough time in case there was something hostile inside it. Dorian's face said it clearly, better to be safe then sorry.
Fel drew his sword and positioned himself on the other side of Bull before giving him a nod.
The Qunari pushed against the top stone slab, his muscles bunching as he put his weight and strength into it. The screech of stone on stone echoed through the empty room before the resounding slam of the stone hitting the ground. Cracking audibly as it hit the floor.
“It's... a woman.” Blackwall sounded utterly baffled.
Fel didn't need to respond as he was just as baffled as the man was. Laying inside the sarcophagus was a perfectly preserved female elf. She had long red hair that was draped over her shoulders, and down across her clasped hands. Her skin was fair, almost a little pale, and she was dressed in a blue gown that looked finely made. He could almost make out threads of gold and silver in a pattern across the bodice. She was definitely pretty but all of that paled in comparison as he stared at her arm.
Both of her hands were clasped over her midsection but one was clearly not a flesh and blood hand. It looked like it was made of some type of crystal and it appeared to be completely grafted to her arm just above the elbow. He had this strange, uncomfortable, feeling like he should know who this lady was but he remembered nothing about her.
They were all staring but it was Bull who took the initiative and leaned down to put his hand by her nose. “Holy fuck, she's still breathing.”