Chapter Text
Scheherazade de Riva hummed as she readied herself for bed. All it took to get in Viago’s good graces was to save his city and thousands upon thousands of dead civilians in Minrathous. Wonderful. The day had been a long, exhausting performance as Viago’s favorite and most lovely pet in the elaborate set of an Antivan villa.
Finally, Viago had allowed Sherry to return to the Lighthouse. It was late. The others were tucked away in their favorite spots across their strange haven in the Beyond. The atrium was lit only by the creaking and slow-turning lens. Sherry slipped to her room on silent feet.
At last, it was time to take the costume off. For now, she could peel the bauta mask of Scheherazade de Riva from her face.
A sigh left her lips as the silk shirt slid off her shoulders and onto the floor. She removed the gold and amethyst necklace Viago had wrapped around her neck hours prior and placed it gently on the bedside table. She grabbed a lilac chemise out of the wardrobe and pulled it over her head.
She pulled pillows and blankets and arranged them into her usual nest. They smelled like lemongrass and the soap Harding used in the laundry. She buried her face into the pillow, an attempt to block out the green glow of the aquarium and its impossible fish.
She curled into the blankets, trying to imitate a soft dwarven body. It didn’t matter how long it had been—there were still days she woke up and thought she was in Omri’s apartment. His soft humming of the last opera he saw nestled itself in her pointed ears as he cooked.
She drifted off to sleep as she attempted to summon one of Omri’s lullabies. The melody was a mixture of Elvhen and Dwarven, made only for the two of them.
Suddenly, a low, clear voice rang out from the back of her mind. Sheraliase. Solas, the supposed ‘Dread Wolf,’ had been deathly silent for two days. The sight of Ghilan’nain and her blighted dragon had spooked him, it seemed. Now, he was almost like a dog sitting at attention, its hackles raised.
Share-ah-lee-ahs-ah, she mumbled.
I said your name correctly, and… this is irrelevant. Wake up. His voice grew in volume.
Sherry groaned into the pillow. Can’t we talk about it when I pass out? She pleaded. Surely, even ancient, scheming wolves needed to sleep.
No. Solas was deathly serious. Something entered the Lighthouse.
Her eyes snapped open. The room was as dark as pitch. The aquarium had gone out. She scrambled to her feet. She held her breath and listened. In the distance, she could hear a scratching sound like an animal dragging itself across stones by its nails, followed by haggard breathing. Her ears twitched.
Elgar’nann has gained access to the Imperium’s lyrium supplies and the blood of its slaves. There is likely nothing in all of Thedas that could stop him with the magic at his disposal. You must escape.
She grabbed her sword and the longbow set up against the wall. The atrium was dark. The whirling and clanking lens of the Lighthouse had fallen silent. Sherry crept down the stairs on silent feet and entered the Eluvian’s room.
The Eluvian’s shimmering blue surface was black. That’s not good, Sherry thought as she strung the bow quickly.
A thing stood in front of it, shaking slightly. Its body was like a wolf’s, but instead of paws, it had hands with long, cracked nails as it dragged itself forward. It was a little more than bone stretched over thin skin and matted fur. Its glinting eyes were far too knowing as it stared at her. It opened its mouth full of jagged teeth and screamed.
She didn’t hesitate to put an arrow through its eye. The next thing to claw its way out, hissing and snarling at her, was humanoid, but it had too many limbs and eyes. It had large teeth poking past its warped lips. Bile rose in her throat just looking at it. She notched another arrow and pulled the string taut.
Another came forward, and another took its place behind it.
“Shit.” She ran. When she came in, Taash and Varric’s rooms were dark, but a light shone from Emmrich’s door. He had to be working on something. Ma halani! Se vara lassa’val! Nae mal, let him still be awake!
“Emmrich!” She yelled as she ran into the atrium. “Emmrich!” Her voice rose in pitch. His door burst open. The Mortalitasi rushed out of the laboratory with Manfred on his heels. His staff was in his hand.
“What’s going on?” He squinted at her as she ran to Taash’s room.
Creators, fuck! I forgot Shemlen can’t see in the dark!
His hazel eyes widened as he summoned a wisp and saw something following her.
“Things are coming through the Eluvian!” Her fist slammed against Taash’s door. “Taash! Wake up!” She pleaded and pounded on the door. Behind her, there was a crack of lightning and a loud howl of pain.
Sherry nearly fell through the door when Taash opened it. Her golden axes were already in her hands. “What the fuck is going on!?” She demanded as she pushed past Sherry. Her brownish-red eyes squinted in the dark.
Creators, can Qunari also not see in the dark!? You have got to be kidding me!
“Vashedan!” Taash cursed as she jumped into the fray and slammed her axe into the head of some monster Sherry could only half see. A few wisps floated above, but they didn’t provide enough light. Her eyes frantically scanned the dark, blurry room. The left side of the room was even darker, blurrier, as her bad eye struggled to focus.
The door of the infirmary creaked open. She couldn’t see Varric, but Bianca creaked as she snapped open. It always made her ears twitch as Varric whistled. “Oh, look, they’ve brought their friends!” He laughed.
“Sherry, get the others! We will hold the line!” Emmrich yelled as he set a monstrous half-bear, half-man on fire.
She sprinted out of the Lighthouse. The sickly green twilight of the Fade was the only light source as she ran across the courtyard. The furthest away was Lucanis in the dining area. A pit formed in her stomach as she remembered an observation she’d made when everyone settled in.
She stood at the door of the courtyard, scanning the scattered array of buildings. Harding claimed the Conservatory, and Bellara set up shop in what appeared to be a workroom. Neve and Davrin were both in separate guesthouses. The furthest away was Lucanis in the kitchen. The First Talon’s grandson had taken to living in the Lighthouse’s pantry.
It was all wrong. The Dalish circled their aravels for protection. Here they were, so far from each other. She shook and went back inside. It was primed for an ambush.
This is all my fault! She should have insisted that everyone stay in the Lighthouse. No, that wasn’t it. We never should have settled the Lighthouse in the first place! It was the perfect trap. They allowed themselves to become complacent, and now they might all die for it.
She burst into the kitchen and ran straight to the pantry, practically bursting through the door. For once, Lucanis was asleep. His breathing was slow and steady as he was propped up in the corner of the wall. The bright purple eyes of Spite blinked at her. “I need Lucanis!” She yelled at the demon.
“No!” Spite yelled back. “It is my turn!”
She rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders. “We are all going to die, Spite! Do you want to die?” She shook the demon.
Spite snarled. His lips twisted as he started to say something, but then he went rigid. Lucanis blinked his brown eyes awake. “Scheherazade?” He yawned. “What is going on?”
“Ambush. There’s no time to explain!” She let go of his shoulders. “Things are in the atrium. Grab your knives and go!” Sherry didn’t spare another second. She flew out of the room. Her legs burned, but she didn’t dare stop.
Out of the corner of her good eye, she spotted Harding rush out of the conservatory with her bow and into the Lighthouse. Davrin and Assan flew down the stairs and ran into the fray.
Thank the Ancestors, they were awake. She ran past Neve’s study. The detective still hadn’t come back from Minrathous.
Neve. Creators, I’m sorry. I-
Scheherazade. You made an impossible call without enough information. I get it. It’s the corner the Gods put us in.
They are not Gods.
I know. Head back to the Lighthouse, Sherry. I’ll see you in a few days.
Sherry prayed that it wouldn’t be their final conversation, but she shoved Neve out of her mind as she burst into Bellara’s workshop. She had fallen asleep at her desk again. The archive was cracked open with some of Bellara’s tinkering tools nearby.
“Bellara! The Eluvian’s fucked! You need to fix it!” Sherry grabbed the older elf by the shoulders.
Bellara jolted and blinked at her. She shook her head and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Something is wrong with the Eluvian? What do you mean, has it turned off, or is it sputtering?” Bellara scrambled to her feet.
“It’s worse. Ghilan’nain sent her things through it.”
Bellara’s eyes went wide as she grabbed her gauntlet and the strange, ancient weapon she insisted was a bow. They clasped hands and ran across the courtyard.
Nothing had escaped from the building. Sherry’s nose crinkled as the smell of blood hit her as they entered the Lighthouse. It was chaos. Wisps floated frantically in the air, throwing blue and red light. The floor was slick with guts and gore. Sherry slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her sword.
Manfred threw anything he could get his hands on in an attempt to help Emmrich as the necromancer cast spells and raised the dead, mangled bodies against their assailants. Harding planted herself on the stairs, taking expert shots as Lucanis made sure none of the monsters got close enough to her. Assan clawed through flesh as Davrin cut down everything in his path. Taash bellowed as she cleaved torsos, her loose white hair red with blood.
“Come on!” Sherry tugged Bellara through the carnage with her sword raised. When they reached the Eluvian, Sherry set about clearing the monsters as Bellara rushed towards it and shoved her hands against the glass.
Her face pinched with concentration as she fought against the magic. “Creators, how did he do this? I can fix this,” The veil-jumper chanted under her breath like it was a prayer to June. “Yeah, I can fix this, I can fix it.”
Sherry positioned herself in front of Bellara, her mirror-like eyes focused on the stairs. A halla-like thing with two sets of sharp teeth and antlers came clattering down the stairs. Its body tumbled into the pit alongside the eluvian, an arrow lodged into its skull.
Her father was stringing his longbow with his large, calloused hands as Sileal pulled her out of the aravel. His ears twitched. He turned, his eyes locked on something in the dark. He notched an arrow and pulled the string tight to his cheek before he let it loose. There was a thud as it hit the target. He looked back at them, his mirror-like eyes softening at the sight of them. “Take Sheraliase and run,” he ordered as he notched another arrow.
Sherry let out a breath and released the arrow. I am my father’s daughter. The monster let out a shriek as it lodged into its skull. It fell to the floor, but another thing replaced it. She picked them off with deadly precision, each strike cleaving through flesh and bone for a killing blow. Occasionally, one slipped through, guarded by the other’s quick deaths, and lunged for them only to meet their death at the end of an Antivan steel blade.
Blood and guts splattered on her face. Her chemise grew sticky with blood, but Sherry held the line. Ghilan’nain creations grew more humanoid, twisted with bulbous red veins and claws, their teeth cracked and broken as they lunged forward to rip her apart.
She did not think as she killed them—they were just nameless villains in the strangest opera she’d ever performed.
Above them, the others fought on. I hope they are. Sherry wasn’t sure how many were still alive. Taash and Davrin occasionally bellowed a war cry, and Emmrich called out a spell, but Harding and Lucanis fought silently.
They might be dead. Are they dead? The thought made her stomach lurch. Behind her, Bellara worked and cursed under her breath as she fought the Eluvain.
You have to be stubborn about what matters, bambina. Omri’s voice came clear as a bell.
Sherry knew he was right. If they kept fighting, they were going to die here. Ghil’anan’s creations were endless. They dragged themselves down the stairs with wounds inflicted by the others. More fought against Bellara to come through the Eluvian. The woman was openly chanting prayers to June as she struggled to regain control.
Sherry’s shoulders ached as she lowered her bow. “Bellara.” Somehow her voice was steady. “Stop trying to take control of it.”
“No! I can do this! Vir sumeil, I just need more time!” Bellara protested, its shimmering black surface reflecting in her warm brown eyes. “Emmrich told me about how mages can do these massive purges with pure willpower, so if I keep going, I might be able to wrestle it away for a few seconds, and then I can lock it down!”
“There is no time! Bellara, you’re fighting against an endless supply of lyrium and blood magic.” Sherry didn’t even want to think about how many slaves had been bled to death to fuel whatever ritual was required to break the Lighthouse’s wards. “Try and rework it, make it connect to any other Eluvian but this one. Arlathan, Rivain, Antiva, for the Creators’ sake! We need to abandon ship!”
The race to defend the Lighthouse was over. Now they were fighting to escape with their lives.
Bellara shook her head. “We’ll lose the Lighthouse! We’ll lose everything we have! The archive! Sherry, I can’t. Just give me a few more minutes and I’ll get it!”
“Bellara, we are going to die!” Sherry screamed as she shot another monster. “I don’t want to lose the Lighthouse, but we are not going to die here! If we die, Ghilan’nain and Elgar’nan win. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Bellara was quiet for a few seconds, her forehead resting on the Eluvian’s black surface. A soft orange banner lit up around the mage as her gauntlet flew off her armor and materialized in a golden triangle shield. “Get the others. I’ll do what I can.”
Sherry slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her sword. She ran, and monsters grabbed and ripped at her nightgown as she hacked and slashed her way back to the atrium. The short distance felt like the journey from Wycome to Treviso all over again, an eternity through the darkest parts of the Void.
She entered the atrium. The room was lit up not only by wisps and whatever fire spells Emmrich had thrown, but by the sickly green, purple, and red glows of demons. Rage demons screeched and clawed at Davrin’s shield. Despair demons shot ice beams at Harding. Apparently, without the Lighthouse’s light, demons flocked like nugs to a limestone deposit.
“Abandon ship!” Sherry yelled. Omri’s opera lessons and years of practicing her singing on the rooftops of Treviso finally served a purpose as her mezzo-soprano voice rang out clear as a bell over the carnage. “Make for the Eluvian! Abandon ship!”
“Vashedan, it’s about fucking time!” Taash didn’t hesitate. She threw Lucanis over her shoulder and scooped Harding under her arm. Lucanis cursed in Antivan, and Harding rolled her eyes as she yelled directions to the stubborn Qunari. Taash charged through the horde and disappeared down the stairs.
Sherry stood at the top of the stairs, covering their escape with a barrage of arrows. Her quiver was running low, and there was no time to scavenge whatever she could from the dead.
“Come along, Manfred, it’s time to go!” Emmrich urged his ward as he fired one last spell. His undead soldiers, the mangled bodies of Ghilan’nain’s creations, turned to their side and continued to fight as the necromancer dashed after Taash, his bangles jingling with every step.
“Are you sure about this, Sherry?” Davrin backed up his shield in front, its silver and blue surface splattered with gore and guts. Assan landed behind them and squeaked. His brown and grey feathers were sticky with blood, and his beak was red. No doubt, the young griffon had snacked on things he wasn’t supposed to in the fray. “What about it, one last stand?”
“Mythal’enaste, you have a death wish, Davrin! No! Come on!” He laughed as the two elves held the line as they made their way back to the Eluvian.
The giant, ancient mirror’s surface was no longer black. It was back to its shimmering blue. The others were gone, but Bellara stood, her face damp with sweat. “Go! I can hold it for a minute longer, but we need to go now!”
Davrin whistled for his griffon. “Assan! Garas!” He commanded in a firm voice. With a nod, the Grey Warden and his griffon ran into the eluvian and vanished.
The Lighthouse was empty except for Bellara, Sherry, and the sea of monsters attempting to eat them. At the top of the stairs, Varric laughed as he taunted the monsters. “Come here and give Bianca a kiss!”
Sherry opened her mouth to call to him. Stop stalling! You’re going to get yourself killed!
“I’m right behind you, kid!” He called down the stairs. “You don’t want to be an actual ghost, do you? Grab Canary and get out of here!”
Sherry backed up to Bellara. The monsters were pouring down the stairs and slamming against Bellara’s magic barrier. Her quiver was empty, her sword dripped with black and red blood.
“It’s time to go,” Bellara urged. “I’ll be right behind, I promise.”
“No.” Sherry shook her head. She grabbed Bellara by the arm. “I’m not leaving without you. I’ve got you.”
“Together?” Bellara asked, her brown eyes flickering to her barrier. It was beginning to crack as the monsters clawed at it.
“Together,” Sherry confirmed.
Bellara took a shaky breath and threw her body against the Eluvian. She pulled Shery in with her. The two of them plunged through the looking-glass’s surface.
Sherry caught one last glimpse of the Lighthouse, its walls and floor covered in blood as monsters with too many teeth and claws raced forward in an attempt to follow them. Varric was right behind them.
The Eluvian flickered.
It died.
Everything went black.