Moments

Moment of Fear

Winds whipped debris around the cracked base where a demon nearly broke through to destroy the world. Thunder rumbled the night sky as people, my people, swarmed amongst the now surrendered Grey Warden forces. Most were already quarantined and contained as far from ours as they could get. Forgiveness could only stretch so far and tension still bit in the air.

The others, the ones who walked with me where no one dared tread, moved on. Cole still bore the worst of it, a shake in his paper hands as he whispered to himself, but it was Bull of all people who kept him distracted. It was also the first time I ever found Vivienne speechless, her face mottled with mud from the fade and terror haunting her eyes. She stood beside me for a time, silent as the grave, marking where we jumped free of the demons and I zipped it shut. But now I stood alone. My eyes stung from focusing intently on the empty air, watching to make certain it worked, and wishing it had all been just a nightmare.

"Inquisitor," a hand dropped onto my shoulder and I turned away from my vigil. A boy stood behind me, his flaxen hair matted with demon blood. He looked so young, specks of fuzz pocked above his lip unable to meet in the middle. I tipped my head, waiting for a response, but his eyes travailed the massive pride demon corpse still strewn in pieces across the ground.

"Have you ever seen one before?" I asked the boy. His massive brown eyes widened at my speaking to him. Slowly, he twisted his head in the negative.

"Pray you never do again," I said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now, you needed something from me?"

"Yes, the commander is looking for you. He said it was important stuff."

I bowed my head and twisted back to the still silent veil. Blessed creators, I wish my brother were here. Even if all of his talk about feeling the veil's power was just him showing off in front of the female hunters it'd still make me feel better. A twinge shuddered off my palm and I released my fingers to find the anchor flaring awake. Closing my fist, I turned to the boy, "Right, where is he?"

Cullen was not that difficult to find. In the time we were trapped in the fade, the commander got most of the wounded marked and tended to. The Wardens not gravely injured and bundled off the battlefield huddled against the wall, blankness in their eyes. Whether it was from losing that calling or from watching their leader nearly sacrifice everyone to a demon was hard to say.

Remnants of our siege weapons lay mixed atop the Wardens, as if everyone dropped what they carried and ran. I spotted the commander walking between two of his lieutenants. One was a tight lipped Tal Vashoth who Cullen had to stand on his tiptoes to meet the eye of. But she followed orders to the letter, to the point she seemed more qunari than our ben hassrath qunari. "What's the word?" He paced to peer over the wall, then back to crouch over a soldier laying upon the ground with a sack wadded over her eye.

"Negative, Ser," Vitan said. She held her hands behind her back, as still as a sullen statue.

"Nothing?" Cullen exasperated, throwing an exhausted hand up. "What about..."

"We have to wait for reinforcements," she interrupted. But Cullen was used to it, and sneered at the promised backup and not his lieutenant.

"Commander," I called, stepping closer. "You asked for me?"

He nodded his head at Vitan, dismissing her. She saluted and turned, commanding two soldiers to assist with her orders. But I swore I caught a micro-smirk from her aimed my way as Cullen fell beside me.

"What's the situation?" I began.

"Adamant is ours, for now. I'm not sure for how long," Cullen said.