The memory ended as abruptly as it had begun. Estella snapped sharply back into awareness of the Fade around her, no longer fully immersed in recollection. She knew, somehow, that the others had seen some version of all that, though she knew not whether it had been through Romulus's eyes or her own. She hoped they hadn't felt what was on her mind, at least.
Gulping down a few steadying breaths, she let her eyes fall to the mark on her palm. She'd reached for this. Intentionally. With purpose. And it wasn't justâ
"Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City." Justinia, or the spirit assuming her form, as Estella guessed this must be, pronounced the words with a hint of sorrow. "Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When the two of you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead."
"I... let you die." Romulus didn't say the words very loudly, but it was quiet enough that he didn't need to. "It wasn't Andraste that saved us in the Fade, it was you. And I just... let go." It was difficult to tell how disturbed he was by the fact. Disappointed, clearly, and perhaps a bit taken aback. "I'm sorry."
Justinia regarded him steadily for a long moment, then shook her head once. "I chose my fate. Helping you both to live was a risk to me, but you were the best hope the world has to stop Corypheus. You are still the best hope. I do not regret my actions."
âThen you're... you're not quite Her Eminence, are you?" If Justinia was really dead, if it was really she who had guided them from the Fade the first time, then whatever this entity was couldn't be the same.
Could she?
"Perhaps," she replied, a subtle expression crossing her face that was not quite a smile. "Perhaps not." Taking a step back, Justinia let her hands rest loosely at her side. What happened next was a feeling before anything elseâa ripple in the Fade that surrounded them. From almost beneath her skin, it seemed, bloomed a bright, aureate light, one that swiftly swallowed her form as the mortal trappings of flesh and cloth simply disappeared, until she was entirely composed, it appeared, of some kind of luminous Fade-stuff. Just like a spirit.
Estella didn't have the words for what kind of being she was, but at the moment, any such words would be beyond the point anyway. She seemed willing enough to help, and she'd given them their memories back. Estella detected no deception, either in her words or her demeanor. Just like it had been at the Conclave when she'd followed Romulus, that would have to be enough.
âCan you take us where we need to go, please?" The spirit appeared to be lifting off the ground; she didn't venture too far away though.
As far as Estella could tell, she nodded, the motion slow and deliberate, then turned down one of the several paths out of the graveyard, striking out with apparent confidence. Glancing briefly at the others, Estella followed.
The spirit moved fast enough through the air that Estella had to break into a jog to keep up; the trail took them through what looked almost like a fenâstagnant water covered most of the ground, varying in depth from her ankles to her knees. Occasionally, a knot of ground would rise above the surface of the water, but those were rarely firm enough not to sink into, either. Decayed reeds and broken cattails dotted the marsh, drained of any color they should have had and rendered in muted grey, verdigris, and dun like everything else in this forsaken place. A chill settled over them, similar to the chill of the fog, but fortunately, that part was gone. No more ghosts haunted her with mist-shapes and phantom lights.
Despite the cold, Estella could feel a sheen of sweat breaking out over her body, even as gooseflesh stippled the skin underneath her armor. The air felt thick and heavy, claustrophobic, almost, like the stale feel of a crypt. She had the distinct sense of being watched. Noâscrutinized. Laid bare before some invisible observer. Found wanting, of course. Always found wanting.
She knew there was a reason the fearlings had always looked like eyes, to her. Just... disembodied, floating eyes, never looking at anything else.
Swallowing, Estella exhaled shakily and kept her attention fixed on the drifting spirit ahead. One foot in front of the other. The rest came later. Just one more step, and one more. Never mind the fear. It was always there anyway.
It felt like an eternity before they reached what was clearly Nightmare's inner sanctum. The marsh had given way to solid ground once more, like rough slate and chipped obsidian under her feet. No doubt it was wreaking havoc on the soles of her boots; even an accidental fall would be extremely unpleasant, to say nothing of the seemingly-random sharp protrusions of volcanic glass and ragged flint. From a rocky overhang above them fell ribbons of something red, blood and bile, if she had to guess, gathering into pools at the level of their feet.
The area opened up further ahead, andâ
Estella's mouth fell open.
âWe appear to have a bit of a pest problem." Cyrus's voice was a little thinner than he probably would have liked, a small sign that not even he was immune to the effects of this placeâor its denizens.
"We're gonna need a... pretty big book to throw at it," Ashton agreed.
The creature was enormous, eight-legged and eyeless, with a carapace that looked almost made out of the same stuff as the ground and overhang. Stone, instead of chitin. Cruel fangs jutted from either side of its mouth, dripping something yellow-green and faintly steaming onto the ground with a corrosive hiss where it touched anything but water. It had to be the size of a small building, at least, and considerably taller, considering the length of its many limbs.
Before it floated another creature, this one more typically demonic. Human-sized, or thereabouts, with pale grey-pink flesh and what looked like six extra arachnoid limbs planted in his back. The upper half of his face looked like something pulled from the depths of the ocean, and brought still-breathing to the dock markets in Minrathousâa squid or maybe an octopus, with four limp limbs dangling just in front of his humanoid shoulders. He, too, had no eyes to speak of.
A lump rose to the back of Estella's throat; she had to swallow several times to breathe properly again. It wasn't evenâshe didn't think that the appearance of them was quite fearsome enough to induce panic in her, but she was experiencing all the physical responses anyway: the sweating, the fine tremors in her limbs, the rapid, staccato breathing, and the thundering of her own heart.
They were inadequate to this task. They were going to die.
She hadn't saved anyone by bringing them here.
"Do not lose hope, Inquisitor." The voice was Justinia's; she drifted forward over Estella's head. "Nor resolve. You will need both, now and in the future."
Her glow growing brighter, she flew forward, directly for the massive spider-creature. She did not slow, even when she approached close enough for collision, and the thing's attempt to swat her away with a gigantic leg met only air as she dove beneath it. With a thunderous cracking sound, she exploded into fire and light, knocking it back and leaving it with a smoking wound in its abdomen. It shrieked loud enough to force them to cover their ears or risk deafness, staggering on its seven other legs. Unfortunately, it steadied and quieted, clearly still very much a threat.
A low chuckle emitted from the smaller being, one familiar by now as Nightmare's. His voice still seemed to be just as much in her head as external, but as before, the others were clearly hearing it as well. "A futile effort. As will yours be."
âIf that's Nightmare, he's the one we need to focus on. I'll distract the monstrosity as long as I can." Cyrus appeared at Estella's shoulder, laying a hand on it and squeezing gently. âBe careful, now."
âNo, Cyrus," Estella's tone was urgent; there likely wasn't much more time before even Nightmare grew tired of letting them stew in their apprehension and attacked. âWe should deal with them both together. You can't possiblyâ"
She cut herself off, shaking her head instead.
âCan't possibly?" He echoed her words with a hint of disdain, but she could easily see the strain evident in his face. Even he wasn't truly sure of his course of action. âDon't forget who you're talking to, Stellulam. Trust me."
He didn't leave her or anyone else much choice, in truth. He was already beginning to blur at the edges, and in the next moment he was gone, already halfway across the distance from them to Nightmare and his horrifying pet. Moments later, a towering wall of blue light cut off both Cyrus and the spider from everything else on the field.
The rest of them faced down Nightmare.
An arrow flew over Estella's shoulder, its flight path taking it directly to the Nightmare's twisted cranium. The demon did nothing to avoid it, and the reason why was readily apparent when the arrow harmlessly skipped off the hardened curvature of what passed for the thing's head. "Dammit," Ashton cursed as he stepped up beside Estella. "Guess that was too much to hope for." Regardless, he pulled another arrow and knocked, intending to do something.
"We've got more company," Vesryn pointed out grimly, angling his spear towards a cluster of fearlings descending from above on their left. They skittered forward as soon as they hit the ground, taking different paths and preparing to flank them. On their right, more demons were appearing, shades and terrors, the occasional wraith. "Plenty of soft targets. I'll take the hard one." His tone implied he was hardly thrilled about the job, but he slipped his helmet on and charged forward anyway, heading straight for Nightmare.
"Clear these out first!" Romulus suggested, throwing himself into the nearest terror demon. He smoothly dodged a downward slash of claws, thrusting his blade up and into the mouth of the demon right as it opened its throat to bellow out a magical scream. The wail turned into a gurgle as it collapsed, and Romulus aimed for the next. "Don't let them surround us!"
Estella elected to heed Romulus's advice: the sooner they could face Nightmare as a unified team, the better, and if that meant clearing these ones out first, then it had to happen fast.
Magic was quicker to her fingertips here than it ever had been, almost eager to burst beyond the confines of her body and into the Fade outside. It was a strange process, to be almost recycling the energy from somewhere physically outside herself, instead of drawing it strictly from within. In fact, she was so unused to it that a good third of the projectiles in her barrage detonated early, fizzling out harmlessly in the air before reaching the fearlings she was targeting.
The rest, a cascade of bright flames, crashed into the mass of open eyes with more force than she'd expectedâmost of them outright blew apart at the contact. But there were more than could easily be destroyed, even by such a scattershot spell, and she called more fire, forming a tight, compressed orb of it in front of one of her hands and letting it fly. Nothing so impressive as the pinprick of light that became an explosionâsomething she had seen her brother do countless timesâbut enough to cut another broad swath through the horde, at least.
A very subtle film of blue-white settled over Estella's field of vision, evidence of an Arcane Shield spell. Nostariel's work, clearly. She'd likely added one to everyone's efforts. An arrow struck one of the fragile spikes of obsidian in the ground; the brittle material became shrapnel, propelled by the explosion that followed, pelting even more of the fearlings and clearing out a good half their remaining number.
The Warden turned her focus to the terrors afterwards, though. Another arrow struck one in the leg, ice creeping from the ground to its chest and locking it in place, an easy target for Romulus's honed knife.
From the other side of the barrier that divided Cyrus and the spider from the rest of them, a splitting crack like thunder rent the air, easily audible even over the other sounds of battle. Whether it meant things were going well or poorly was impossible to say, but at least it was a sign that he was alive.
Ashton proved to be as nimble on his feet as Estella remembered, always moving and firing arrows all the while. A shade slipped in closer than was comfortable, but Ashton quickly drew an arrow and shot it into what amounted to its gut. It didn't kill it, but it did buy him time to backstep and line up a clearer shot, this one its face. That's all it took for the demon to fall, and he whirled around to focus elsewhere. A number of fearlings also fell to arrows, but these were punctuated by grunts of discomfort and quick glances to the others, in particular toward Nostariel-- their demise obviously having an effect on him.
A shade attempted to close the distance to erase the range on his arrows, but it soon found out that sword he wore on his back wasn't purely for decoration. A quick cleave through its torso and it dispersed, letting Ashton replace the sword for another arrow.
The Nightmare was poorly armored, but swift, far quicker than Vesryn was without Saraya's help. Every spear thrust missed by a foot as the demon floated side to side, easily avoiding attacks and batting aside with focused barriers any that would otherwise hit. Nightmare responded in turn with several attacks of his own for every one of Vesryn's, lashing out with the chitinous limbs and looking for a weak point in his armor or blasting him at close range with a damaging spell. Already his shield was weighed down by a sheen of ice that he'd barely been able to block.
Another spear thrust was dodged, this time Nightmare grabbing the shaft of the weapon and wrenching Vesryn forward, swapping their positions. The elf's momentum carried him solidly into a pillar of stone jutting from the ground, stopping him cold, and the demon conjured up a massive blast of magic, taking on the shape of a clawed hand of bristling green light. It rushed forward and smashed against his shield, which he'd only just gotten in front of his face, but the blow clearly left him dazed and staggering.
Having dealt with the last pressing minor demon in his area, Romulus turned and charged the Nightmare from behind, landing a slash to the back of its leg. It did nothing to hinder the mobility of a floating demon, however, and Nightmare hissed in disapproval, wheeling about and lashing down at Romulus with a storm of stabs from his arachnoid back limbs. Romulus stumbled back, blocking the first on his shield, batting the second away, dodging the third, but the fourth and the fifth stabbed into his arm and his side briefly, forcing him down for a moment and out of the combat.
Though Estella had since drawn her saber, she shot another spell ahead of her as she charged as well. Nightmare batted it away, which wasn't that surprising, but at least it had obscured her passage a bit, and she swung quickly for his midsection. The speed of the strike sacrificed some power, though; she didn't realize the mistake in that until it glanced off his skin without leaving much of a cut at all, even considering the enchantment. The line of blood that appeared was almost thread-thin, and more black than red.
Unprepared to meet quite that much resistance, Estella was forced half a step back, and her heel landed awkwardly on an irregularity in the ground, turning her ankle and distracting her for just a second. A second too long, as it turned out.
Pain bloomed in her abdomen. The demon's dark claws raked through her leathers with ease, leaving three long slashes behind, cutting from her right hip up to the last rib on her right side and tearing the thin armor plate there off by the straps. It clattered to the ground, and a concussive blast threw her another several feet backwards, forcing the air from her lungs. She only barely managed to keep her feet, gasping for breath she could not seem to regain.
Nostariel's hand touched her side; the healing spell was quick and general. Little more than a staunch to her bleeding, but enough to keep her up and steady, for the moment. The Warden slung her bow over her back and lit both hands with ice magic, hurling one billowing cloud of energy right on the heels of the other. Nightmare dodged the first entirely, and knocked the second aside with his uppermost left arm.
It was swiftly paralyzed by a thick coating of frost, remaining jutted forward at an awkward angle, inoperable. But the ice spread no further, and did not impede his overall motion. He retaliated by thrusting both hands forward. Nostariel froze, joints visibly locking in place. Her breath hissed from between her teeth, but even her jaw was immobile. The bolt of lightning that followed was unavoidable, striking her with a crackle before spreading, seeking unerringly everyone around her.
The arrow Ashton had nocked went astray and ricocheted off the ground towards nowhere. He hissed out of pain from the shock as the electricity froze his body, but eventually it faded and he staggered trying to catch his feet back under him. "Bastard," Ashton swore, nocking another arrow and letting it loose with practiced fluidity. This time his aim was better and struck the Nightmare in the body. The arrow managed to find purchase this time, but only barely enough to keep it lodged in its thick skin, and was rendered moot a moment later when one of its arms swept it aside.
For his efforts he was hit with some sort of spell, and though it did not appear to cause any external damage, the moment it struck Ashton stumbled forward and onto his knees. He reached for an arrow, but missed, his equilibrium apparently off. It took two more attempts before he managed to grasp an arrow, but it did not matter because once he let it fly it was plainly obvious it'd soar far too wide to be of any danger to anything. "Dammit," he swore again, fumbling to reach for another arrow.
The lightning ricocheted around to all of them, keeping Vesryn stunned in place, but when it crackled over Romulus he merely grimaced, and shook out his arms, even as his armor smoked slightly. Growling somewhat, he took off at a run and jumped onto Nightmare's back, finding purchase among his flailing limbs and momentarily pulling the demon up. He spun around, hissing in frustration, and also making himself a difficult target for the others, running the risk of hitting their ally if they attacked in that moment. Romulus reached with his marked hand for Nightmare's head, planting his palm down and letting it glow with bright, powerful green magic of the Anchor.
The demon was not interested in allowing this, and reached up to pull Romulus's hand away. The rift he tried to open was created in front of Nightmare rather than within him, and when it snapped shut the blast was powerful enough to throw Romulus off of his back, down onto the jagged rock they fought upon. One side of the demon's face took a significant burn from the magical blast, but it appeared only to have angered him. Nightmare shrieked, arching his back and unleashing a torrent of magic all around him. Entropic tendrils lashed out and wrapped around everyone, leeching their strength and stamina, and inflicting significant pain. Nightmare's shriek morphed into a hideous laugh.
"Your fear is your weakness, and from your weakness I draw strength!"
Romulus writhed on his back on the ground, unable to clamber to his feet. Nostariel's gauntlets scraped against the unyielding stone; blood dripped from between her lips, where she must have bitten her tongue at some point. She managed to push herself partway up with her arms, but could get no farther. Ashton was off his knees and on his side, grimacing in pain. He slashed in effectively and widely at the tendrils wrapping around him, his bow laying on the ground some odd feet away. He could never find an angle and even when he did manage to hit them, his sword just weakly bounced off. Estella collapsed, her legs suddenly much weaker than she recalled them being, and rolled onto her side. She had to get up, or she was going to die. She knew it with cold certainty. That didn't make it any easier.
It was Vesryn that first managed to sever the connection, getting his shield in front of him while Nightmare's back was turned, cutting off the coil of magic. He pushed forward, ramming into Nightmare from behind with his shield and disrupting the spell, before he plunged his spear straight ahead and steady, stabbing the demon in the lower back. Howling in rage, Nightmare twisted around and bashed the spear aside, conjuring up hands of frost magic that ensnared Vesryn's feet. The moment of distraction was all it took for the demon to sweep in close.
Nightmare seized him by the collar of his breastplate, and with remarkable strength he was hurled away, landing with a loud clatter of armor on rock near the edge of the demon's inner sanctum. Letting out another shriek, Nightmare then fade-stepped away, a rush of air blasting those left behind as the demon instantly arrived beside the fallen elf. His shield was ripped from his arm and tossed aside. A heavy blow of force magic smashed down on him. Already he was barely moving, maybe even unconscious.
Unable to defend himself, there was nothing Vesryn could do as two of the Nightmare's limbs punched through his armor, impaling him on either side. He was lifted into the air, one of the demon's hands grabbing his helm and pushing his head back to expose his neck, the other coiling back to slash it open.
Estella, just barely getting her feet under her, raised her head in enough time to witness it. She strained against the crippling weakness of her own bodyâit felt heavy and anemic, sluggish in a way it hadn't since Therinfal, and the trap of her own mind. Sound was muffled, her vision blurry, and aftershocks of the powerful chain lightning blast seized her muscles against her will.
There was no way she would make it in time. No one would.
But someone must.
Gritting her teeth, Estella forced herself to her feet. As if responding to her will itself, the mark on her hand crackled, green light wreathing her entire body. The popping, hissing sound it made loud in her ears was like wood on fire, or lightning between her fingertips: erratic, but powerful. Her body felt different, feather-light, as though she were made of nothing but air.
She lunged.
One moment, she was too far away to make any difference even with a well-placed spell. But she blinked, and when her eyes opened, she was directly next to Nightmare. Too close, actually; her swing was short for the momentum it needed, biting deep into the demon's free wrist but not severing the hand cleanly, as she'd meant to do. The mark surged, though, and she bore down, hacking it off the rest of the way more through strength and her saber's keen edge than the right angles or any degree of finesse.
The hand landed on the stone beneath them with a solid thud. It was hard to tell which of them was more surprised, but she certainly had his attention now. Withdrawing his sharp limbs from Vesryn's body, he carelessly dropped the elf with his remaining hand, hurling himself bodily for Estella.
Whatever force had gotten her there was not kind enough to get her out of the way, and he bowled her over with ease, descending from his hover to stomp heavily on her ribcage. One of the bones gave under the pressure, snapping with a wet crack she knew all too well. Estella cried out weakly and gasped for air, choking on the attempt. The power in her limbs, whatever it had been, faded as fast as it had come, but the insidious decay of Nightmare's entropy magic did not. Her body betrayed her, but her will had not. Would not.
Fire crackled to life at her fingertips; with the strength she had left, she flung it point-blank for his face.
It hit, just well enough to force Nightmare off of her and back into the air. It seemed Nostariel had recovered by that point, because an arrow flew over her field of vision and thudded into the demon's shoulder, icing the rest of his limbs on that side. A ripple through the air, like heat in the desert, was the only sign of the retaliatory burst he threw at the Warden, but something substantial hit the ground hard a few moments later with a grunt.
Nightmare lunged forward with several of its appendages, before something whistled through the air and forced it to recoil. An arrow struck, protruding from one of the weaker joints on its appendage causing Ashton to huff in a minor victory. "Finally," he said through grit teeth before firing one more at another appendage. Unlike the last one, the arrow flew through cleanly and cleaved through with a thump of the severed body part meeting the ground. His reward was quick in greeting, an air of raw force striking him and sending him skittering across the unforgiving ground.
Romulus was quick to lunge in when Ashton was thrown away, dodging the first stab of Nightmare's limbs and nimbly grabbing hold of said limb with his marked hand. The demon did not escape this time, and a blast of rift magic soon followed, rupturing the limb from within and sending pieces of it falling to the rock at their feet. Romulus followed up with a deep-piercing stab to Nightmare's side, leaving a black, bloody wound behind, before he ducked and rolled away from a retaliatory strike. The stonefist that came hurtling towards him afterwards deflected up into the air off his shield, a precise block. It still carried enough force to send him stumbling back to the ground.
Vesryn was still unable to rise. He was clearly conscious, judging by the intense pain he was in, feebly grasping for his weapon and shield while blood flowed rapidly from the wounds on either side of him. His breath came in ragged, wet, mostly failed gasps.
Estella turned onto her side, then onto her hands and knees, gulping breaths deep as she could manage and trying not to gag on them. âNostariel..." She met the Warden's eyes and gestured weakly to Vesryn. âPlease."
Pushing herself up to sit back on her legs, she blinked several times, trying to focus on what was happening. Her vision swam; she nearly overbalanced and toppled sideways, but caught herself with her hand and a small breathy noise when her rib twanged. She'd been injured much worse than this before, but the way Nightmare's entropic magic had sapped her strength made everything keener. Worse.
The wounds on her stomach had reopened when Nightmare stepped on her, but they bled only sluggishly, perhaps because her heartbeat was the same. Squinting, she decided the moving whitish blur was the demon and pulled up what she was quite confident was the last dregs of her magic. She didn't even have the wherewithal to form it into a proper spell: the just threw it at him, a raw jolt of force.
It slammed into his side, breaking off the limbs Nostariel had frozen. Surely... surely there was not much of him left now.
Nostariel was busy working on Vesryn, at least if the way she knelt at his side was anything to go by. Nightmare took a while to recover from Estella's hit, but before anyone else could take advantage of the fact, the large barrier separating them from the other fight shattered.
It appeared to have been broken by Cyrus's body; he flew another dozen or so feet through the air and hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop about six feet from where she sat. He was in almost as bad a condition as Vesryn: his robes were stained throughout with patches of blood, several surrounding broad slashes, and there was a a gouge just to the right of his sternum almost as wide as her index finger was long. That one wasn't bleeding as fast as it should have been, but he didn't move after he landed, either.
The spider itself was walking on five legs instead of eight, still stable but slow. Great blackened scorch marks decorated its carapace; more than one of them had done heavy damage. The wounds oozed, heavy gouts of fluid sloshing onto the ground with every step it took. It drooped lower than before, but there was no mistaking: it was alive, and angry.
A great wail came from the other side of the battle where Nightmare hovered-- or at least hovered at one point. It now had a sword driven through its shoulder blade, the tip protruding out the front. On its back Ashton rode, either trying to wrench the blade free or work it in more, it was unclear, however, what was clear was that the blade was doing neither. He must have risen to his feet at some point and quickly worked his way behind it while it was distracted. Still, the weight of Ashton in his heavy guardsmen uniform brought Nightmare out of the air, though unfortunately that meant all of its weight fell on Ashton.
When the demon crashed into the hard stone Ashton let out a gasp of pain, and when the demon rose again, it did so without him. It then turned, its claws raised with killing intent.
A crossbow bolt found the side of the demon's head, however, Romulus having waited for their enemy to be weakened before attempting to use it. Nightmare wavered, the lethal claw lowering, and the Inquisitor rushed in with a fury etched on his face to go along with the extreme effort of still fighting at any significant strength. Flipping his dagger backwards, he plunged it into the wound Ashton had created, and ripped it downwards, shredding open a massive wound across the demon's torso. Black blood spewed out as the Nightmare recoiled, twisting and contorting with an unearthly shriek. It twitched violently, and then dissolved in mid-air, leaving nothing behind but ashes and embers, drifting slowly down to the rock below.
Vesryn coughed, steadily getting more air back in him as Nostariel worked, and when he was strong enough to get his weapons he was also getting back to his feet, denying any further healing. Another looming step from the massive spider forced him back down onto one knee though.
"We need to get out of here!" Romulus shouted, running to carefully collect Cyrus. It wasn't clear where exactly they could run to, but he tried to get Estella's brother to her all the same.
Nightmare falling might have solved part of their problem, but it still didn't provide a way out of the rest. Estella desperately wished Cyrus were awake to guide her through the process of opening a riftâher success the last time had been a fluke, born of desperation and instinct and a number of other things that she wasn't sure she could properly name. Hopefully, this situation was similar enough to that one to achieve the same result.
âOver here!" She called. She didn't want to risk standing just yet, in case her dizziness returned and rendered her unable to do what she had to. So from her spot on her knees, she focused on the mark, concentrating down past all the other things she could sense about herself and her body to just that. She remembered now, what it had been like to feel it the first time, from the orb itself. Like it was... calling to her, reaching for her somehow, strange as it was to think.
Estella called up that feeling again, and this time, the response was almost immediate. Green light burst forth, and with a sound not unlike tearing linen, space split open in front of her. She turned back aroundâand her eyes went wide. The spider was gaining on them, especially Romulus, burdened by Cyrus's weight, and Vesryn, still horribly injured.
Nostariel, running slightly ahead of Vesryn, caught the look, it seemed, and slowed to a stop, glancing behind herself and grimacing. For a moment, her eyes returned to Estella, and then the rift in the air behind her, and her expression hardened.
âKeep moving! I'll hold it back!" Mouth set in a firm line, she turned, drawing her bow from her back and two arrows from her quiver, fitting both to the string at once. The arrowheads lit cerulean; with a twang, she released, sending both for the spider's foremost leg.
Ice bloomed like flowers over the surface of the creature's carapace, but delayed it only for a moment, before it wrenched its leg free and continued to scuttle forward, shaking the ground with each step. Replacing the bow, Nostariel lit her hands instead, firing half a dozen more spells in quick succession, as if to try and pin all five remaining legs at once.
"Wait, what? No!" Ashton said, stopping his own progress. He was without his sword, his plate was dented and torn, and only a handful of arrows remained in his quiver but regardless he turned to Nostariel reaching for one more arrow. "Not without you!" He stated certainly, sending an arrow uselessly toward the spider beast.
But Nostariel wasn't having it. âYou promised, Ash. When it was time, you'd turn around and walk the other way. This is... I have to be the one to do this." She didn't relent with her barrage of magic; she had to have been burning through energy at an alarming rate, but if so, she gave no sign of it.
A spell struck the creature's knee; it lurched, but recovered, straining towards them with acid-dripping mandibles. âSomeone has to stay. You know it has to be me." The comparative effectiveness of her ice to his arrows was silent testament to the fact. She was also less injured than everyone but him. In cold, logical terms, she was right.
Bringing both hands together, Nostariel combined what looked like another frost spell with crackling lightning; the whole thing jumped forward from her hands, almost unstable, but powerful enough to actually knock the creature over, though it did not remain down for long. She resumed walking towards it, away from the rest of them.
"Not like this!" Ashton demanded, anger actually working its way through his words. He fired off another arrow, but it was pitiful in comparison to Nostariel's magic. "Not now!" he said, all of his anger and pain heaved atop that single word.
"I just got you back..."
From the angle she was at, Estella could just see Nostariel's face contort with obvious pain, but resolve was not long to follow. âThen forgive me, my love. Because I will not let you die here. Not if I can help it." Almost without breaking the rhythm of her casting, she diverted one of her arms, reaching up and touching a single gauntleted finger to his temple.
A sleep spell was obvious when it triggered, and Ashton crumpled to the ground, folding in on himself and hitting the stone.
âEstella! Can youâ" Nostariel's voice cracked. âCan you please?" Pausing just long enough to barrage the oncoming spider a few more times, buying herself mere seconds, Nostariel used her other hand to encase Ashton in a sphere-shaped barrier, and then a gentle force spell to propel it most of the distance to the portal.
âNostariel..." Estella's vision blurred and stung for a moment, but she did her best to keep her head. If any of them were going to make it out of thisâif what Nostariel was doing was going to make a differenceâshe had to keep it together, keep the rift stable, and make sure everyone else got through it.
She nodded. âWe'll get him through. I promise." Rising to her feet, she pushed back a wave of dizziness and made it to where he lay, looping one of his limp arms around her shoulders. Thankfully, Vesryn was able to support him from the other side, because she would almost certainly not have been able to carry him on her own.
âThank you." Nostariel's expression eased, a sort of calm acceptance softening her eyes. She offered a wan smile, then turned away. With each step, she flung a new piece of magic, calling them thick and fast to her hands as quickly as she could be rid of them.
She did not look back.
With the time she bought them, the others hurried through the tear, Estella last of all, from the need to keep it open for the others. She spared a single glance backwards, biting down on her lip. But though every instinct she had drove her to try, just try, to help her friend, she understood why she couldn't.
Turning away, she squeezed her eyes shut and stepped through the rift.
Gulping down a few steadying breaths, she let her eyes fall to the mark on her palm. She'd reached for this. Intentionally. With purpose. And it wasn't justâ
"Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City." Justinia, or the spirit assuming her form, as Estella guessed this must be, pronounced the words with a hint of sorrow. "Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When the two of you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead."
"I... let you die." Romulus didn't say the words very loudly, but it was quiet enough that he didn't need to. "It wasn't Andraste that saved us in the Fade, it was you. And I just... let go." It was difficult to tell how disturbed he was by the fact. Disappointed, clearly, and perhaps a bit taken aback. "I'm sorry."
Justinia regarded him steadily for a long moment, then shook her head once. "I chose my fate. Helping you both to live was a risk to me, but you were the best hope the world has to stop Corypheus. You are still the best hope. I do not regret my actions."
âThen you're... you're not quite Her Eminence, are you?" If Justinia was really dead, if it was really she who had guided them from the Fade the first time, then whatever this entity was couldn't be the same.
Could she?
"Perhaps," she replied, a subtle expression crossing her face that was not quite a smile. "Perhaps not." Taking a step back, Justinia let her hands rest loosely at her side. What happened next was a feeling before anything elseâa ripple in the Fade that surrounded them. From almost beneath her skin, it seemed, bloomed a bright, aureate light, one that swiftly swallowed her form as the mortal trappings of flesh and cloth simply disappeared, until she was entirely composed, it appeared, of some kind of luminous Fade-stuff. Just like a spirit.
Estella didn't have the words for what kind of being she was, but at the moment, any such words would be beyond the point anyway. She seemed willing enough to help, and she'd given them their memories back. Estella detected no deception, either in her words or her demeanor. Just like it had been at the Conclave when she'd followed Romulus, that would have to be enough.
âCan you take us where we need to go, please?" The spirit appeared to be lifting off the ground; she didn't venture too far away though.
As far as Estella could tell, she nodded, the motion slow and deliberate, then turned down one of the several paths out of the graveyard, striking out with apparent confidence. Glancing briefly at the others, Estella followed.
The spirit moved fast enough through the air that Estella had to break into a jog to keep up; the trail took them through what looked almost like a fenâstagnant water covered most of the ground, varying in depth from her ankles to her knees. Occasionally, a knot of ground would rise above the surface of the water, but those were rarely firm enough not to sink into, either. Decayed reeds and broken cattails dotted the marsh, drained of any color they should have had and rendered in muted grey, verdigris, and dun like everything else in this forsaken place. A chill settled over them, similar to the chill of the fog, but fortunately, that part was gone. No more ghosts haunted her with mist-shapes and phantom lights.
Despite the cold, Estella could feel a sheen of sweat breaking out over her body, even as gooseflesh stippled the skin underneath her armor. The air felt thick and heavy, claustrophobic, almost, like the stale feel of a crypt. She had the distinct sense of being watched. Noâscrutinized. Laid bare before some invisible observer. Found wanting, of course. Always found wanting.
She knew there was a reason the fearlings had always looked like eyes, to her. Just... disembodied, floating eyes, never looking at anything else.
Swallowing, Estella exhaled shakily and kept her attention fixed on the drifting spirit ahead. One foot in front of the other. The rest came later. Just one more step, and one more. Never mind the fear. It was always there anyway.
It felt like an eternity before they reached what was clearly Nightmare's inner sanctum. The marsh had given way to solid ground once more, like rough slate and chipped obsidian under her feet. No doubt it was wreaking havoc on the soles of her boots; even an accidental fall would be extremely unpleasant, to say nothing of the seemingly-random sharp protrusions of volcanic glass and ragged flint. From a rocky overhang above them fell ribbons of something red, blood and bile, if she had to guess, gathering into pools at the level of their feet.
The area opened up further ahead, andâ
Estella's mouth fell open.
âWe appear to have a bit of a pest problem." Cyrus's voice was a little thinner than he probably would have liked, a small sign that not even he was immune to the effects of this placeâor its denizens.
"We're gonna need a... pretty big book to throw at it," Ashton agreed.
The creature was enormous, eight-legged and eyeless, with a carapace that looked almost made out of the same stuff as the ground and overhang. Stone, instead of chitin. Cruel fangs jutted from either side of its mouth, dripping something yellow-green and faintly steaming onto the ground with a corrosive hiss where it touched anything but water. It had to be the size of a small building, at least, and considerably taller, considering the length of its many limbs.
Before it floated another creature, this one more typically demonic. Human-sized, or thereabouts, with pale grey-pink flesh and what looked like six extra arachnoid limbs planted in his back. The upper half of his face looked like something pulled from the depths of the ocean, and brought still-breathing to the dock markets in Minrathousâa squid or maybe an octopus, with four limp limbs dangling just in front of his humanoid shoulders. He, too, had no eyes to speak of.
A lump rose to the back of Estella's throat; she had to swallow several times to breathe properly again. It wasn't evenâshe didn't think that the appearance of them was quite fearsome enough to induce panic in her, but she was experiencing all the physical responses anyway: the sweating, the fine tremors in her limbs, the rapid, staccato breathing, and the thundering of her own heart.
They were inadequate to this task. They were going to die.
She hadn't saved anyone by bringing them here.
"Do not lose hope, Inquisitor." The voice was Justinia's; she drifted forward over Estella's head. "Nor resolve. You will need both, now and in the future."
Her glow growing brighter, she flew forward, directly for the massive spider-creature. She did not slow, even when she approached close enough for collision, and the thing's attempt to swat her away with a gigantic leg met only air as she dove beneath it. With a thunderous cracking sound, she exploded into fire and light, knocking it back and leaving it with a smoking wound in its abdomen. It shrieked loud enough to force them to cover their ears or risk deafness, staggering on its seven other legs. Unfortunately, it steadied and quieted, clearly still very much a threat.
A low chuckle emitted from the smaller being, one familiar by now as Nightmare's. His voice still seemed to be just as much in her head as external, but as before, the others were clearly hearing it as well. "A futile effort. As will yours be."
âIf that's Nightmare, he's the one we need to focus on. I'll distract the monstrosity as long as I can." Cyrus appeared at Estella's shoulder, laying a hand on it and squeezing gently. âBe careful, now."
âNo, Cyrus," Estella's tone was urgent; there likely wasn't much more time before even Nightmare grew tired of letting them stew in their apprehension and attacked. âWe should deal with them both together. You can't possiblyâ"
She cut herself off, shaking her head instead.
âCan't possibly?" He echoed her words with a hint of disdain, but she could easily see the strain evident in his face. Even he wasn't truly sure of his course of action. âDon't forget who you're talking to, Stellulam. Trust me."
He didn't leave her or anyone else much choice, in truth. He was already beginning to blur at the edges, and in the next moment he was gone, already halfway across the distance from them to Nightmare and his horrifying pet. Moments later, a towering wall of blue light cut off both Cyrus and the spider from everything else on the field.
The rest of them faced down Nightmare.
An arrow flew over Estella's shoulder, its flight path taking it directly to the Nightmare's twisted cranium. The demon did nothing to avoid it, and the reason why was readily apparent when the arrow harmlessly skipped off the hardened curvature of what passed for the thing's head. "Dammit," Ashton cursed as he stepped up beside Estella. "Guess that was too much to hope for." Regardless, he pulled another arrow and knocked, intending to do something.
"We've got more company," Vesryn pointed out grimly, angling his spear towards a cluster of fearlings descending from above on their left. They skittered forward as soon as they hit the ground, taking different paths and preparing to flank them. On their right, more demons were appearing, shades and terrors, the occasional wraith. "Plenty of soft targets. I'll take the hard one." His tone implied he was hardly thrilled about the job, but he slipped his helmet on and charged forward anyway, heading straight for Nightmare.
"Clear these out first!" Romulus suggested, throwing himself into the nearest terror demon. He smoothly dodged a downward slash of claws, thrusting his blade up and into the mouth of the demon right as it opened its throat to bellow out a magical scream. The wail turned into a gurgle as it collapsed, and Romulus aimed for the next. "Don't let them surround us!"
Estella elected to heed Romulus's advice: the sooner they could face Nightmare as a unified team, the better, and if that meant clearing these ones out first, then it had to happen fast.
Magic was quicker to her fingertips here than it ever had been, almost eager to burst beyond the confines of her body and into the Fade outside. It was a strange process, to be almost recycling the energy from somewhere physically outside herself, instead of drawing it strictly from within. In fact, she was so unused to it that a good third of the projectiles in her barrage detonated early, fizzling out harmlessly in the air before reaching the fearlings she was targeting.
The rest, a cascade of bright flames, crashed into the mass of open eyes with more force than she'd expectedâmost of them outright blew apart at the contact. But there were more than could easily be destroyed, even by such a scattershot spell, and she called more fire, forming a tight, compressed orb of it in front of one of her hands and letting it fly. Nothing so impressive as the pinprick of light that became an explosionâsomething she had seen her brother do countless timesâbut enough to cut another broad swath through the horde, at least.
A very subtle film of blue-white settled over Estella's field of vision, evidence of an Arcane Shield spell. Nostariel's work, clearly. She'd likely added one to everyone's efforts. An arrow struck one of the fragile spikes of obsidian in the ground; the brittle material became shrapnel, propelled by the explosion that followed, pelting even more of the fearlings and clearing out a good half their remaining number.
The Warden turned her focus to the terrors afterwards, though. Another arrow struck one in the leg, ice creeping from the ground to its chest and locking it in place, an easy target for Romulus's honed knife.
From the other side of the barrier that divided Cyrus and the spider from the rest of them, a splitting crack like thunder rent the air, easily audible even over the other sounds of battle. Whether it meant things were going well or poorly was impossible to say, but at least it was a sign that he was alive.
Ashton proved to be as nimble on his feet as Estella remembered, always moving and firing arrows all the while. A shade slipped in closer than was comfortable, but Ashton quickly drew an arrow and shot it into what amounted to its gut. It didn't kill it, but it did buy him time to backstep and line up a clearer shot, this one its face. That's all it took for the demon to fall, and he whirled around to focus elsewhere. A number of fearlings also fell to arrows, but these were punctuated by grunts of discomfort and quick glances to the others, in particular toward Nostariel-- their demise obviously having an effect on him.
A shade attempted to close the distance to erase the range on his arrows, but it soon found out that sword he wore on his back wasn't purely for decoration. A quick cleave through its torso and it dispersed, letting Ashton replace the sword for another arrow.
The Nightmare was poorly armored, but swift, far quicker than Vesryn was without Saraya's help. Every spear thrust missed by a foot as the demon floated side to side, easily avoiding attacks and batting aside with focused barriers any that would otherwise hit. Nightmare responded in turn with several attacks of his own for every one of Vesryn's, lashing out with the chitinous limbs and looking for a weak point in his armor or blasting him at close range with a damaging spell. Already his shield was weighed down by a sheen of ice that he'd barely been able to block.
Another spear thrust was dodged, this time Nightmare grabbing the shaft of the weapon and wrenching Vesryn forward, swapping their positions. The elf's momentum carried him solidly into a pillar of stone jutting from the ground, stopping him cold, and the demon conjured up a massive blast of magic, taking on the shape of a clawed hand of bristling green light. It rushed forward and smashed against his shield, which he'd only just gotten in front of his face, but the blow clearly left him dazed and staggering.
Having dealt with the last pressing minor demon in his area, Romulus turned and charged the Nightmare from behind, landing a slash to the back of its leg. It did nothing to hinder the mobility of a floating demon, however, and Nightmare hissed in disapproval, wheeling about and lashing down at Romulus with a storm of stabs from his arachnoid back limbs. Romulus stumbled back, blocking the first on his shield, batting the second away, dodging the third, but the fourth and the fifth stabbed into his arm and his side briefly, forcing him down for a moment and out of the combat.
Though Estella had since drawn her saber, she shot another spell ahead of her as she charged as well. Nightmare batted it away, which wasn't that surprising, but at least it had obscured her passage a bit, and she swung quickly for his midsection. The speed of the strike sacrificed some power, though; she didn't realize the mistake in that until it glanced off his skin without leaving much of a cut at all, even considering the enchantment. The line of blood that appeared was almost thread-thin, and more black than red.
Unprepared to meet quite that much resistance, Estella was forced half a step back, and her heel landed awkwardly on an irregularity in the ground, turning her ankle and distracting her for just a second. A second too long, as it turned out.
Pain bloomed in her abdomen. The demon's dark claws raked through her leathers with ease, leaving three long slashes behind, cutting from her right hip up to the last rib on her right side and tearing the thin armor plate there off by the straps. It clattered to the ground, and a concussive blast threw her another several feet backwards, forcing the air from her lungs. She only barely managed to keep her feet, gasping for breath she could not seem to regain.
Nostariel's hand touched her side; the healing spell was quick and general. Little more than a staunch to her bleeding, but enough to keep her up and steady, for the moment. The Warden slung her bow over her back and lit both hands with ice magic, hurling one billowing cloud of energy right on the heels of the other. Nightmare dodged the first entirely, and knocked the second aside with his uppermost left arm.
It was swiftly paralyzed by a thick coating of frost, remaining jutted forward at an awkward angle, inoperable. But the ice spread no further, and did not impede his overall motion. He retaliated by thrusting both hands forward. Nostariel froze, joints visibly locking in place. Her breath hissed from between her teeth, but even her jaw was immobile. The bolt of lightning that followed was unavoidable, striking her with a crackle before spreading, seeking unerringly everyone around her.
The arrow Ashton had nocked went astray and ricocheted off the ground towards nowhere. He hissed out of pain from the shock as the electricity froze his body, but eventually it faded and he staggered trying to catch his feet back under him. "Bastard," Ashton swore, nocking another arrow and letting it loose with practiced fluidity. This time his aim was better and struck the Nightmare in the body. The arrow managed to find purchase this time, but only barely enough to keep it lodged in its thick skin, and was rendered moot a moment later when one of its arms swept it aside.
For his efforts he was hit with some sort of spell, and though it did not appear to cause any external damage, the moment it struck Ashton stumbled forward and onto his knees. He reached for an arrow, but missed, his equilibrium apparently off. It took two more attempts before he managed to grasp an arrow, but it did not matter because once he let it fly it was plainly obvious it'd soar far too wide to be of any danger to anything. "Dammit," he swore again, fumbling to reach for another arrow.
The lightning ricocheted around to all of them, keeping Vesryn stunned in place, but when it crackled over Romulus he merely grimaced, and shook out his arms, even as his armor smoked slightly. Growling somewhat, he took off at a run and jumped onto Nightmare's back, finding purchase among his flailing limbs and momentarily pulling the demon up. He spun around, hissing in frustration, and also making himself a difficult target for the others, running the risk of hitting their ally if they attacked in that moment. Romulus reached with his marked hand for Nightmare's head, planting his palm down and letting it glow with bright, powerful green magic of the Anchor.
The demon was not interested in allowing this, and reached up to pull Romulus's hand away. The rift he tried to open was created in front of Nightmare rather than within him, and when it snapped shut the blast was powerful enough to throw Romulus off of his back, down onto the jagged rock they fought upon. One side of the demon's face took a significant burn from the magical blast, but it appeared only to have angered him. Nightmare shrieked, arching his back and unleashing a torrent of magic all around him. Entropic tendrils lashed out and wrapped around everyone, leeching their strength and stamina, and inflicting significant pain. Nightmare's shriek morphed into a hideous laugh.
"Your fear is your weakness, and from your weakness I draw strength!"
Romulus writhed on his back on the ground, unable to clamber to his feet. Nostariel's gauntlets scraped against the unyielding stone; blood dripped from between her lips, where she must have bitten her tongue at some point. She managed to push herself partway up with her arms, but could get no farther. Ashton was off his knees and on his side, grimacing in pain. He slashed in effectively and widely at the tendrils wrapping around him, his bow laying on the ground some odd feet away. He could never find an angle and even when he did manage to hit them, his sword just weakly bounced off. Estella collapsed, her legs suddenly much weaker than she recalled them being, and rolled onto her side. She had to get up, or she was going to die. She knew it with cold certainty. That didn't make it any easier.
It was Vesryn that first managed to sever the connection, getting his shield in front of him while Nightmare's back was turned, cutting off the coil of magic. He pushed forward, ramming into Nightmare from behind with his shield and disrupting the spell, before he plunged his spear straight ahead and steady, stabbing the demon in the lower back. Howling in rage, Nightmare twisted around and bashed the spear aside, conjuring up hands of frost magic that ensnared Vesryn's feet. The moment of distraction was all it took for the demon to sweep in close.
Nightmare seized him by the collar of his breastplate, and with remarkable strength he was hurled away, landing with a loud clatter of armor on rock near the edge of the demon's inner sanctum. Letting out another shriek, Nightmare then fade-stepped away, a rush of air blasting those left behind as the demon instantly arrived beside the fallen elf. His shield was ripped from his arm and tossed aside. A heavy blow of force magic smashed down on him. Already he was barely moving, maybe even unconscious.
Unable to defend himself, there was nothing Vesryn could do as two of the Nightmare's limbs punched through his armor, impaling him on either side. He was lifted into the air, one of the demon's hands grabbing his helm and pushing his head back to expose his neck, the other coiling back to slash it open.
Estella, just barely getting her feet under her, raised her head in enough time to witness it. She strained against the crippling weakness of her own bodyâit felt heavy and anemic, sluggish in a way it hadn't since Therinfal, and the trap of her own mind. Sound was muffled, her vision blurry, and aftershocks of the powerful chain lightning blast seized her muscles against her will.
There was no way she would make it in time. No one would.
But someone must.
Gritting her teeth, Estella forced herself to her feet. As if responding to her will itself, the mark on her hand crackled, green light wreathing her entire body. The popping, hissing sound it made loud in her ears was like wood on fire, or lightning between her fingertips: erratic, but powerful. Her body felt different, feather-light, as though she were made of nothing but air.
She lunged.
One moment, she was too far away to make any difference even with a well-placed spell. But she blinked, and when her eyes opened, she was directly next to Nightmare. Too close, actually; her swing was short for the momentum it needed, biting deep into the demon's free wrist but not severing the hand cleanly, as she'd meant to do. The mark surged, though, and she bore down, hacking it off the rest of the way more through strength and her saber's keen edge than the right angles or any degree of finesse.
The hand landed on the stone beneath them with a solid thud. It was hard to tell which of them was more surprised, but she certainly had his attention now. Withdrawing his sharp limbs from Vesryn's body, he carelessly dropped the elf with his remaining hand, hurling himself bodily for Estella.
Whatever force had gotten her there was not kind enough to get her out of the way, and he bowled her over with ease, descending from his hover to stomp heavily on her ribcage. One of the bones gave under the pressure, snapping with a wet crack she knew all too well. Estella cried out weakly and gasped for air, choking on the attempt. The power in her limbs, whatever it had been, faded as fast as it had come, but the insidious decay of Nightmare's entropy magic did not. Her body betrayed her, but her will had not. Would not.
Fire crackled to life at her fingertips; with the strength she had left, she flung it point-blank for his face.
It hit, just well enough to force Nightmare off of her and back into the air. It seemed Nostariel had recovered by that point, because an arrow flew over her field of vision and thudded into the demon's shoulder, icing the rest of his limbs on that side. A ripple through the air, like heat in the desert, was the only sign of the retaliatory burst he threw at the Warden, but something substantial hit the ground hard a few moments later with a grunt.
Nightmare lunged forward with several of its appendages, before something whistled through the air and forced it to recoil. An arrow struck, protruding from one of the weaker joints on its appendage causing Ashton to huff in a minor victory. "Finally," he said through grit teeth before firing one more at another appendage. Unlike the last one, the arrow flew through cleanly and cleaved through with a thump of the severed body part meeting the ground. His reward was quick in greeting, an air of raw force striking him and sending him skittering across the unforgiving ground.
Romulus was quick to lunge in when Ashton was thrown away, dodging the first stab of Nightmare's limbs and nimbly grabbing hold of said limb with his marked hand. The demon did not escape this time, and a blast of rift magic soon followed, rupturing the limb from within and sending pieces of it falling to the rock at their feet. Romulus followed up with a deep-piercing stab to Nightmare's side, leaving a black, bloody wound behind, before he ducked and rolled away from a retaliatory strike. The stonefist that came hurtling towards him afterwards deflected up into the air off his shield, a precise block. It still carried enough force to send him stumbling back to the ground.
Vesryn was still unable to rise. He was clearly conscious, judging by the intense pain he was in, feebly grasping for his weapon and shield while blood flowed rapidly from the wounds on either side of him. His breath came in ragged, wet, mostly failed gasps.
Estella turned onto her side, then onto her hands and knees, gulping breaths deep as she could manage and trying not to gag on them. âNostariel..." She met the Warden's eyes and gestured weakly to Vesryn. âPlease."
Pushing herself up to sit back on her legs, she blinked several times, trying to focus on what was happening. Her vision swam; she nearly overbalanced and toppled sideways, but caught herself with her hand and a small breathy noise when her rib twanged. She'd been injured much worse than this before, but the way Nightmare's entropic magic had sapped her strength made everything keener. Worse.
The wounds on her stomach had reopened when Nightmare stepped on her, but they bled only sluggishly, perhaps because her heartbeat was the same. Squinting, she decided the moving whitish blur was the demon and pulled up what she was quite confident was the last dregs of her magic. She didn't even have the wherewithal to form it into a proper spell: the just threw it at him, a raw jolt of force.
It slammed into his side, breaking off the limbs Nostariel had frozen. Surely... surely there was not much of him left now.
Nostariel was busy working on Vesryn, at least if the way she knelt at his side was anything to go by. Nightmare took a while to recover from Estella's hit, but before anyone else could take advantage of the fact, the large barrier separating them from the other fight shattered.
It appeared to have been broken by Cyrus's body; he flew another dozen or so feet through the air and hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop about six feet from where she sat. He was in almost as bad a condition as Vesryn: his robes were stained throughout with patches of blood, several surrounding broad slashes, and there was a a gouge just to the right of his sternum almost as wide as her index finger was long. That one wasn't bleeding as fast as it should have been, but he didn't move after he landed, either.
The spider itself was walking on five legs instead of eight, still stable but slow. Great blackened scorch marks decorated its carapace; more than one of them had done heavy damage. The wounds oozed, heavy gouts of fluid sloshing onto the ground with every step it took. It drooped lower than before, but there was no mistaking: it was alive, and angry.
A great wail came from the other side of the battle where Nightmare hovered-- or at least hovered at one point. It now had a sword driven through its shoulder blade, the tip protruding out the front. On its back Ashton rode, either trying to wrench the blade free or work it in more, it was unclear, however, what was clear was that the blade was doing neither. He must have risen to his feet at some point and quickly worked his way behind it while it was distracted. Still, the weight of Ashton in his heavy guardsmen uniform brought Nightmare out of the air, though unfortunately that meant all of its weight fell on Ashton.
When the demon crashed into the hard stone Ashton let out a gasp of pain, and when the demon rose again, it did so without him. It then turned, its claws raised with killing intent.
A crossbow bolt found the side of the demon's head, however, Romulus having waited for their enemy to be weakened before attempting to use it. Nightmare wavered, the lethal claw lowering, and the Inquisitor rushed in with a fury etched on his face to go along with the extreme effort of still fighting at any significant strength. Flipping his dagger backwards, he plunged it into the wound Ashton had created, and ripped it downwards, shredding open a massive wound across the demon's torso. Black blood spewed out as the Nightmare recoiled, twisting and contorting with an unearthly shriek. It twitched violently, and then dissolved in mid-air, leaving nothing behind but ashes and embers, drifting slowly down to the rock below.
Vesryn coughed, steadily getting more air back in him as Nostariel worked, and when he was strong enough to get his weapons he was also getting back to his feet, denying any further healing. Another looming step from the massive spider forced him back down onto one knee though.
"We need to get out of here!" Romulus shouted, running to carefully collect Cyrus. It wasn't clear where exactly they could run to, but he tried to get Estella's brother to her all the same.
Nightmare falling might have solved part of their problem, but it still didn't provide a way out of the rest. Estella desperately wished Cyrus were awake to guide her through the process of opening a riftâher success the last time had been a fluke, born of desperation and instinct and a number of other things that she wasn't sure she could properly name. Hopefully, this situation was similar enough to that one to achieve the same result.
âOver here!" She called. She didn't want to risk standing just yet, in case her dizziness returned and rendered her unable to do what she had to. So from her spot on her knees, she focused on the mark, concentrating down past all the other things she could sense about herself and her body to just that. She remembered now, what it had been like to feel it the first time, from the orb itself. Like it was... calling to her, reaching for her somehow, strange as it was to think.
Estella called up that feeling again, and this time, the response was almost immediate. Green light burst forth, and with a sound not unlike tearing linen, space split open in front of her. She turned back aroundâand her eyes went wide. The spider was gaining on them, especially Romulus, burdened by Cyrus's weight, and Vesryn, still horribly injured.
Nostariel, running slightly ahead of Vesryn, caught the look, it seemed, and slowed to a stop, glancing behind herself and grimacing. For a moment, her eyes returned to Estella, and then the rift in the air behind her, and her expression hardened.
âKeep moving! I'll hold it back!" Mouth set in a firm line, she turned, drawing her bow from her back and two arrows from her quiver, fitting both to the string at once. The arrowheads lit cerulean; with a twang, she released, sending both for the spider's foremost leg.
Ice bloomed like flowers over the surface of the creature's carapace, but delayed it only for a moment, before it wrenched its leg free and continued to scuttle forward, shaking the ground with each step. Replacing the bow, Nostariel lit her hands instead, firing half a dozen more spells in quick succession, as if to try and pin all five remaining legs at once.
"Wait, what? No!" Ashton said, stopping his own progress. He was without his sword, his plate was dented and torn, and only a handful of arrows remained in his quiver but regardless he turned to Nostariel reaching for one more arrow. "Not without you!" He stated certainly, sending an arrow uselessly toward the spider beast.
But Nostariel wasn't having it. âYou promised, Ash. When it was time, you'd turn around and walk the other way. This is... I have to be the one to do this." She didn't relent with her barrage of magic; she had to have been burning through energy at an alarming rate, but if so, she gave no sign of it.
A spell struck the creature's knee; it lurched, but recovered, straining towards them with acid-dripping mandibles. âSomeone has to stay. You know it has to be me." The comparative effectiveness of her ice to his arrows was silent testament to the fact. She was also less injured than everyone but him. In cold, logical terms, she was right.
Bringing both hands together, Nostariel combined what looked like another frost spell with crackling lightning; the whole thing jumped forward from her hands, almost unstable, but powerful enough to actually knock the creature over, though it did not remain down for long. She resumed walking towards it, away from the rest of them.
"Not like this!" Ashton demanded, anger actually working its way through his words. He fired off another arrow, but it was pitiful in comparison to Nostariel's magic. "Not now!" he said, all of his anger and pain heaved atop that single word.
"I just got you back..."
From the angle she was at, Estella could just see Nostariel's face contort with obvious pain, but resolve was not long to follow. âThen forgive me, my love. Because I will not let you die here. Not if I can help it." Almost without breaking the rhythm of her casting, she diverted one of her arms, reaching up and touching a single gauntleted finger to his temple.
A sleep spell was obvious when it triggered, and Ashton crumpled to the ground, folding in on himself and hitting the stone.
âEstella! Can youâ" Nostariel's voice cracked. âCan you please?" Pausing just long enough to barrage the oncoming spider a few more times, buying herself mere seconds, Nostariel used her other hand to encase Ashton in a sphere-shaped barrier, and then a gentle force spell to propel it most of the distance to the portal.
âNostariel..." Estella's vision blurred and stung for a moment, but she did her best to keep her head. If any of them were going to make it out of thisâif what Nostariel was doing was going to make a differenceâshe had to keep it together, keep the rift stable, and make sure everyone else got through it.
She nodded. âWe'll get him through. I promise." Rising to her feet, she pushed back a wave of dizziness and made it to where he lay, looping one of his limp arms around her shoulders. Thankfully, Vesryn was able to support him from the other side, because she would almost certainly not have been able to carry him on her own.
âThank you." Nostariel's expression eased, a sort of calm acceptance softening her eyes. She offered a wan smile, then turned away. With each step, she flung a new piece of magic, calling them thick and fast to her hands as quickly as she could be rid of them.
She did not look back.
With the time she bought them, the others hurried through the tear, Estella last of all, from the need to keep it open for the others. She spared a single glance backwards, biting down on her lip. But though every instinct she had drove her to try, just try, to help her friend, she understood why she couldn't.
Turning away, she squeezed her eyes shut and stepped through the rift.