The gates weren't going to hold for long.
Rom was busy just trying to catch his breath. Their forces were holding on the walls now that the dragon wasn't actively harassing them. He didn't know what had become of it, only that it was no longer in the sky raining hell upon them. Those they'd sent out after it, Asala, Leon, Captain Pavell, Rilien, Cyrus, Astraia... if they were successful, they'd have an army to cut through if they wanted to get back inside. They couldn't expect their help here, too.
Bang, bang. Corypheus had something big bashing on their door. Inquisition regulars were bracing it, but it wouldn't be long until it gave way, and the enemy poured inside. Their only choice was to meet them in battle, and hope that killing Corypheus caused him to stay dead, and broke the spirit of his army.
"So called Heralds of Andraste! Emissaries of a false god! Your deaths are at hand."
Corypheus could project his voice with remarkable effectiveness, booming over the battlements and washing over the beleaguered defenders. He was just outside, Rom knew. Probably pacing back and forth, waiting to march inside with his corrupted and brainwashed legion.
"The time for surrender has long passed. I will spill your blood, break your bones, rend your flesh, and over your corpses I will cut another hole in the sky, to claim the godhood that you are unworthy of."
"Good for morale, this guy," Vesryn remarked with a wince, as he passed Rom. He went to help brace the door. Rom didn't stop, moving further into the fortress grounds, searching for Estella. He'd overheard she was seeking out healing. Rom had only a few nicks and scratches so far himself, but that was likely to change once Corypheus was inside.
He found her grimacing her way through a red potion on the infirmary stairs, an empty vial with a few drops of pearlescent blue inside signaling that she'd started with a mana restorative. Rom knew better than most just how hard alchemy could be on the body, especially when the body in question wasn't really accustomed to its effects. The wound she'd taken earlier, the one on her shoulder, looked better, though not like it had seen the attentions of a proper healer.
"I tried to find Donovan," she explained, pausing to take another swallow and making a face. "It's only Milly in there right now, though. He... might have been on the wall." She didn't specify beyond that. Throwing back the last of the potion, she set the bottle down on the stairs next to the other and pushed herself into a standing position, dusting off her trousers. "Doesn't sound like we have much longer. To the front?"
"To the front," he echoed. Her condition wasn't ideal, but none of this was. They'd have to make do. He led the way back towards the gate, passing through massing Inquisition troops and their allies, all gathering their strength before the final storm. "We have to attack him together," he said, glancing back. "Corypheus will want to fixate on one of us, but if we keep his attention pulled multiple directions, we can kill him. We've done it before."
He heard murmured wishes of good luck as they passed. Soldiers that he didn't know the names of, people that had devoted their lives to the cause. To the two of them, and what they'd come to stand for, by their choice or otherwise. Perhaps they'd been just the Heralds of Andraste in the beginning, but by now the Inquisition had seen both of them for the very human people they were. Flawed, in need of help at times, of guidance, but ultimately always willing to bear the responsibility that came with the marks upon their palms. Whether it was his destiny or not, Rom wanted to be here at this moment. He was no blood of Andraste.
He was the son of smugglers and thieves, and he aimed to kill a god.
He stopped, perhaps thirty yards from the gate. Bang, bang. The doors groaned with the effort of staying closed and intact. "If his eyes are on you and the elven orb is in his hand," he added, "don't try to use your mark. He has a power over them, somehow, and he'll leave you immobile with pain." He knew that one well enough from experience.
"Your tricks cease here, Inquisition! Your futile resistance meets its bloody end! Tremble before Corypheus!"
Rom's upper lip curled up halfway to a snarl. He'd never been much of a leader in battle, he thought, but he couldn't help but lift his voice to a shout. "Are we trembling, Inquisition?"
“Fuck, no!" not surprisingly, Khari was the first to reply, taking the spot she'd claimed for herself on the opposite side of him from Estella. Grinning at him, she cupped one of her hands at the side of her mouth and shouted the next part through the gate. “Ugly son of a bitch has nothing on the likes of us!"
From behind Khari's shoulder, wild curls flew as Zahra drew herself up on the balls of her feet. "We'll show you where to shove your bloody end!" She screamed it at the door, eyes wide and mouth set into a determined grin. She looked exhausted. Her little tussel on the Skyhold's wall had rendered most of her quiver empty, save for a handful of arrows. Even so, she seemed to swell with all of the energy at her sides, as they yelled and beat their chests.
At the line just behind them, Harellan chuckled softly, placing a hand on Estella's uninjured shoulder and squeezing. When he drew away, it was with the soft hum of a conjured weapon, flourishing both and pointing the blades at the ground. The two other Lions in the group, Donnelly and Hissrad, weren't far from their friend, either, the characteristic bravery of their ilk probably not allowing them to take safer spots at the back.
Lord D'Artignon and his detachment of household troops, certainly not expecting to fight so soon, had nevertheless prepared quickly once the attack started, and now made up the left flank of the formation, ready to fall on Corypheus's forces in the event they pushed too far into Skyhold.
Even some of those who did not typically fight had taken the field to defend their hope. Further back, their mechanist was loading a crossbow almost as big as she was. Lia's scouts had remained afield, arranged behind the main body, bows at the ready. Signy's entire clan of Avvar, few as they were, threaded themselves among the regulars as well, their black-and-white warpaint a sharp contrast to the silver and russet of most of the regulars' uniforms. Reed stood among those, having survived the collapse of Leon's tower, now commanding Captain Pavell's usual detachment in his absence.
Aurora and what mages survived the dragon's attack on the wall appeared, looking worse for the wear. The woman herself had her clothes singed with ash dusting the armor on her arms, and blood leaked from cuts she'd sustained but otherwise looked to be relatively intact. The same could not be said about her unit. The grim look on her face, edged with a calm fury told them all that they needed to know. Wordlessly, they filtered throughout the main body of the regulars, while Aurora herself chose a spot near the front. It appeared as if Sparrow had made it alive. Her ridiculously large mace bobbed between the remnants of soot-faced mages as they made their way to the door. The front of her dragonhide leathers was smeared with blood and where she walked, a spackled mess of red dropped in her wake, though it wasn't readily apparent where her wound was, if it was hers at all. She grit her teeth, which appeared stained, as well. Her eyebrows were drawn together, murky eyes hard as stone. She glanced over at Aurora once, and took her place at her side.
Bang, bang. The doors wouldn't hold much longer. Already the regulars holding them were showing clear signs of losing the struggle, their feet sliding back against the flagstones. Estella pulled in a deep breath, glancing once at Rom and offering a subtle nod. Gripping her saber, she pulled it from the sheath and turned to face the assembled.
"Years ago," she said, her voice clear even over the collisions. "I made you a promise. Today—today that promise is fulfilled. Today, we will fell this false god, and we will be victorious." She set her jaw, swallowed, and continued. "I don't know if Corypheus is trembling... but he damn well ought to be. Let's show him why."
"Death's all that waits for him here!" Vesryn shouted, straining with the effort of holding the gate. "Let him come and get it!" As one they pulled away, giving up their attempts brace the gate and sprinting back to rejoin the formation. It lasted only a few more seconds after that before they burst open, and a pride demon charged through.
A quickly charged ball of lightning flew from its hands, burning shocks lashing over a swath of the Inquisition soldiers. Corypheus lifted his elven orb and a rift opened at the gate. Screeching horrors spewed forth, falling upon them and hacking into their lines. The sheer force of the attack took them a moment to recover from, but they did recover, and before long they were pushing back.
Corypheus was among the first through the gates after the wave of demons, friend and foe falling away from him where he walked. All save for Rom and Estella, the two he wanted to see dead most. It wasn't that simple on their end, though; that rift needed to be closed, or else the army would have endless demons to deal with in addition to Corypheus's forces.
But even that would be no simple matter: demons on top of Venatori and red templars were a tall order, even for a force as practiced as the Inquisition. Estella sprang forward, clearly intent on at least getting closer to the darkspawn, but her path was swiftly blocked by a despair demon, shooting a beam of ice into the thick of the Inquisition forces. Estella rolled, coming up on its side and slashing, nearly parting its head from its shoulders and winning herself a few more steps forward. The rift still roiled, crystals shifting and rearranging themselves—not weak enough yet, even though the demons it spawned were falling around it, the Inquisition's press forward dropping them one by one. The Pride demon still fought at the right side of the line, but the smaller ones were spawning more slowly now.
By the time she was close enough to hit it with her Anchor, it had collapsed in on itself, dormant for the moment. But they recovered if left too long, and she chose to try and close it now rather than wait for another chance, lifting her right arm towards it. With a crackle and a low hum, the familiar green light streaked towards the rift like it was magnetized; Estella grimaced and strafed sideways to avoid an incoming spear, the connection faltering for a moment.
Vesryn covered her, shield-smashing the Venatori aside and dealing with him with little of the grace all of them had come to expect from the elf. Corypheus turned to attack Estella from behind, intent on stopping her from sealing the rift, but Rom had made a beeline for him, ignoring any other enemies that sought to strike him, trusting that his friends would keep them off his back. He did that now for Estella by stabbing his blade into Corypheus, finding a place to bury it in his lower back and stopping the magister in his tracks. He growled, spinning and swinging, but Rom was already gone, ducking and rolling away.
A loud crack rent the air as the rift shattered into nothingness, Estella's mark having closed it for good. Corypheus bellowed wordless frustration at them, unleashing a blast of raw magic from the elven orb he carried. It threw everyone to the ground around him, both his allies and enemies, and in the space that provided Corypheus used a spell to hurl himself into the air, flying deeper into Skyhold, and higher still, striving for the main keep.
Rom got back to his feet, remaining low in a wary crouch. The others were making good on their progress, and had fiercely fought the remaining demons, Venatori, and other enemies to a standstill, giving their Inquisitors the opportunity to engage Corypheus on their own. He saw the magister blast aside the doors to the keep, and disappear inside.
"Estella! Get us up there." He was already making his way to her. Whatever Corypheus planned to do up there, they needed to stop it.
"Got it." She was already concentrating on the mark again, this time to wash them both in green light. She stepped in close, as the transport necessitated, gripping his armor by the far shoulder, near the neck. There was a feeling like being dipped in water, but it faded quickly. "Step with me."
He did, and all of a sudden the keep stairs loomed in front of them. Estella released him, already taking the first two at once.
Rom moved to follow her, but they both had to stop when the ground suddenly shook with unexpected force, as though a powerful earthquake had just hit Skyhold. He could hear stonework collapsing, distant sections of the fortress falling apart under the strain.
A blast of magic energy erupted out of the keep's roof and streaked into the sky, colored the same green as the marks on their hands. It reached cloud level, and there began another rift, well out of their reach. Rom could see it growing, though, threatening to expand. He knew that sight well enough, from the first time he'd stepped out of the Haven chantry and looked into the sky. Corypheus was trying to remake the Breach.
They didn't delay any longer, sprinting up the stairs when they got their feet under them again and passing through the open doors. Corypheus had forcefully blasted aside the tables and benches, clearing an empty space before the pair of thrones at the end of the hall. The orb crackled with magic in his hand, the energy drifting away and floating up into the sky.
"The blood shed here will pave my way into the Fade," he said, stalking towards them. "I will take great pleasure extracting the life from both of you."
He went for Estella first, firing a heavy blast of force magic that she just barely managed to spin away from. But she hadn't taken more than two steps towards him before she faltered, picked up by the second spell and hurled back into one of the heavy wooden tables. It shuddered under the impact, one of the legs snapping off with the angle at which she struck it.
Rom pulled up instead of charging, waiting for Estella to recover so they could attack together. Corypheus wasn't content to wait, launching a wave of ice magic at him, stabbing spikes that erupted out of the floor in his direction. He timed their approach and leaped over them, nearrowly avoiding being skewered and rolling back to his feet. Corypheus had fade-stepped closer to him in the time that took, blasting Rom's shield away with spirit magic, then hitting him fully with the followup attack, an unnaturally strong swipe of his hand to Rom's upper body. He was tossed away and landed flat on his back, and Corypheus advanced again, charging up some kind of spell with the orb.
A crack followed, one that might have been the release of the spell, except that Estella appeared right beside him in the heartbeat after, resolutely not looking at Corypheus as she'd been warned. She paused only long enough to grab his arm, and then there was another splitting sound, and they were looking at Corypheus's back. Where Estella still held him, he felt more magic, different from the kind in the Anchors. This must be the kind that had kept Vesryn barely on the right side of functioning for a few months—it wasn't completely unlike what the tonics had used to feel like, before he stopped taking them.
"Quick," she urged, "there's not much time." Before Corypheus turned to face them and aimed the spell, or before whatever it was took effect, maybe. Which one she meant hardly mattered.
The magic flowing the from the orb had turned a bright red, not unlike the hazy glow given off by red lyrium. Instantly traveling around the room like this was disorienting, but Rom got his bearings quickly enough to charge Corypheus from behind, throwing himself into a leap that would leave him near the magister's head. Unfortunately the spell did not need to be aimed, as Corypheus lifted it and out pulsed a powerful wave of magic in all direction with speed he could not react to. It washed over him with a heat like fire that did not burn, and left his chest feeling like it was on fire, his organs all suddenly screaming for relief.
He crashed to the ground at Corypheus's feet instead of grappling onto his head, and when the darkspawn turned he brought down a heavy claw like hand with brutal speed. It carved gashes into Rom's shield first, before carrying on to his torso and his legs, leaving bloody rends down the length of him. A blast of force magic tossed him aside, and Corypheus advanced on Estella next.
Alarm was scrawled across her features; frantically she cast about for something to use, something to do to stave off the approaching darkspawn. Her free hand closed over her throne; with surprising strength, she lifted the ornate chair from the ground and hurled it.
Corypheus broke it apart in midair, but Rom's matching seat followed quickly, and that one broke apart over Corypheus's body, clattering to the floor. When he hurled a fireball in retaliation, Estella just barely got clear, ducking behind the stone dais.
"Pathetic. Your desperation is amusing. Flee and hide, it will not save you."
As the fire from his spell cleared, Corypheus followed it with a swift blast a pure arcane force, shattering the dais that was Estella's cover. Momentarily she was gone in a cloud of dust and falling rubble, but then Corypheus had stepped with startling speed to her and snatched her up by a forearm, holding her several feet off the ground and pausing to examine her marked hand. She kicked and twisted, the mark on her hand pulsing wildly, but there was no getting leverage over him, and she was left to hang uncomfortably.
"You are as unworthy as the other. Join him."
He hurled her through the air towards where Rom still lay, trying to rise and battling his wounds. She came down hard on her injured shoulder with a cry, not loud enough to mask the crunch of it breaking, and rolled onto her back, wheezing thinly.
Finally, Corypheus seemed to have no more words, nothing more to spew at them. Rom took this as a sign that he was intent on killing them here and now. He'd stalked halfway down the hall, orb pulsating angrily, when suddenly he gasped as if in shock. Rom looked to find him on one knee, clutching his chest and in obviously pain. A wave of something, like a cool wind, washed over the hall and settled upon Corypheus, and he seemed well and truly stunned by it.
"It cannot be," he said. "I have walked the halls of the Golden City, crossed the ages... Dumat! Ancient ones, I beseech you. If you exist—if you truly ever existed—aid me now!"
Rom had managed to get to his knees, grabbing his blade where it had fallen on the floor. He looked to where Estella was at his side. "The dragon, it has to be... he must be vulnerable." They had to get up, they had to end him now.
Estella rolled to her hands and knees, wheezes becoming gasps. Something was wrong with her mark—it was still pulsing fast, probably in time with her heartbeat, but from the twist of her mouth and the tears at the corner of her eyes, it was also causing her tremendous pain. She bent forward over her unbroken arm, cradling the hand close to her chest, groaning through gritted teeth.
This seemed to produce some kind of reaction. The orb itself changed, light flickering from red to green, brightening and fading in time with her half of the Anchor. "Go," she choked. "I can stun him, I can—you have to kill him."
With a raw shout, she thrust her hand towards Corypheus, almost as if she were trying to close a rift. But the orb in his hand shook, shuddered, and then tore free, flying over the space between them until her fingers closed over it, digging into the whorls and ridges on its surface. A spear of green light shot from the device, streaking across the room and slamming into Corypheus's chest, throwing him all the way back into the crumbled remains of the dais.
Rom had gotten to his feet, and then he was moving, the weight of every moment he'd lived through carrying him towards Corypheus. First a walk, then a stumbling jog, and then a full sprint, snarling and dropping his blade as he ran. Corypheus was trying to rise when he reached him, but Rom put an end to that with a blast from his mark, delivered with a punch that when combined sent Corypheus flat on his back. He had no power over their marks, not when he was without the orb.
Rom descended on him, planting his hand atop his corrupted, darkspawn forehead, and he let the mark do the rest. The same way it had done for Adan Borja, who had tried to kill someone he loved. Corypheus would kill everything he loved, if given the chance.
"You'll never walk the Fade again," he growled down at him. Corypheus was already groaning in pain. "You'll never be a god. You're nothing at all." His mark placed a larger rift than he meant inside the darkspawn magister. Half of him was already gone, torn away into nothingness, when he forced it to collapse on itself. It exploded outwards, throwing him off of where Corypheus had been, while bits and pieces of their enemy were scattered all over the hall. Rom landed with a thud, and lay still on his back. Above him, through the blasted hole in the ceiling, he could still see the Breach hovering in the clouds, a growing maelstrom.
The irregular sound of footsteps heralded Estella's approach, though they were more a shuffle than anything. The both of them weren't in good shape, but they were alive, and Corypheus was not. "I think..." she said, voice almost swallowed by the open air and strange, eerie stillness. "I think we can use this to close it, if we work together." Her eyes were fixed on the focus itself, head cocked like she was hearing something that wasn't actually audible, but she shook it off and looked down at him instead.
"I'd offer you a hand, but my other one's broken. Let's be done with it, shall we?"
"Gladly." Groaning, he rolled over first and pushed off the ground, getting back to his feet that way. He could tell right away that she was on to something about the orb. He touched his marked hand to it, as she was already doing. Something not unlike the way they'd both been marked to begin with, the way they survived the blast that destroyed the Conclave.
Lifting to orb towards the heavens, it suddenly erupted with a pillar green light, one that reached up into the sky with a thunderous roar. His legs shook; he didn't doubt Estella was having trouble staying upright too, but they fought through it, held it there until it was done. When at last the energy was expended, the elven orb shattered in their hands, the pieces raining down around them as charred hunks of metallic stone.
But the Breach was gone once more, the clouds in the sky already stilling and calming. Outside, Rom could hear the cheers of victory rising from the Inquisition forces.
It was over. It was done. And the Inquisitors were still standing, triumphant together.
Rom was busy just trying to catch his breath. Their forces were holding on the walls now that the dragon wasn't actively harassing them. He didn't know what had become of it, only that it was no longer in the sky raining hell upon them. Those they'd sent out after it, Asala, Leon, Captain Pavell, Rilien, Cyrus, Astraia... if they were successful, they'd have an army to cut through if they wanted to get back inside. They couldn't expect their help here, too.
Bang, bang. Corypheus had something big bashing on their door. Inquisition regulars were bracing it, but it wouldn't be long until it gave way, and the enemy poured inside. Their only choice was to meet them in battle, and hope that killing Corypheus caused him to stay dead, and broke the spirit of his army.
"So called Heralds of Andraste! Emissaries of a false god! Your deaths are at hand."
Corypheus could project his voice with remarkable effectiveness, booming over the battlements and washing over the beleaguered defenders. He was just outside, Rom knew. Probably pacing back and forth, waiting to march inside with his corrupted and brainwashed legion.
"The time for surrender has long passed. I will spill your blood, break your bones, rend your flesh, and over your corpses I will cut another hole in the sky, to claim the godhood that you are unworthy of."
"Good for morale, this guy," Vesryn remarked with a wince, as he passed Rom. He went to help brace the door. Rom didn't stop, moving further into the fortress grounds, searching for Estella. He'd overheard she was seeking out healing. Rom had only a few nicks and scratches so far himself, but that was likely to change once Corypheus was inside.
He found her grimacing her way through a red potion on the infirmary stairs, an empty vial with a few drops of pearlescent blue inside signaling that she'd started with a mana restorative. Rom knew better than most just how hard alchemy could be on the body, especially when the body in question wasn't really accustomed to its effects. The wound she'd taken earlier, the one on her shoulder, looked better, though not like it had seen the attentions of a proper healer.
"I tried to find Donovan," she explained, pausing to take another swallow and making a face. "It's only Milly in there right now, though. He... might have been on the wall." She didn't specify beyond that. Throwing back the last of the potion, she set the bottle down on the stairs next to the other and pushed herself into a standing position, dusting off her trousers. "Doesn't sound like we have much longer. To the front?"
"To the front," he echoed. Her condition wasn't ideal, but none of this was. They'd have to make do. He led the way back towards the gate, passing through massing Inquisition troops and their allies, all gathering their strength before the final storm. "We have to attack him together," he said, glancing back. "Corypheus will want to fixate on one of us, but if we keep his attention pulled multiple directions, we can kill him. We've done it before."
He heard murmured wishes of good luck as they passed. Soldiers that he didn't know the names of, people that had devoted their lives to the cause. To the two of them, and what they'd come to stand for, by their choice or otherwise. Perhaps they'd been just the Heralds of Andraste in the beginning, but by now the Inquisition had seen both of them for the very human people they were. Flawed, in need of help at times, of guidance, but ultimately always willing to bear the responsibility that came with the marks upon their palms. Whether it was his destiny or not, Rom wanted to be here at this moment. He was no blood of Andraste.
He was the son of smugglers and thieves, and he aimed to kill a god.
He stopped, perhaps thirty yards from the gate. Bang, bang. The doors groaned with the effort of staying closed and intact. "If his eyes are on you and the elven orb is in his hand," he added, "don't try to use your mark. He has a power over them, somehow, and he'll leave you immobile with pain." He knew that one well enough from experience.
"Your tricks cease here, Inquisition! Your futile resistance meets its bloody end! Tremble before Corypheus!"
Rom's upper lip curled up halfway to a snarl. He'd never been much of a leader in battle, he thought, but he couldn't help but lift his voice to a shout. "Are we trembling, Inquisition?"
“Fuck, no!" not surprisingly, Khari was the first to reply, taking the spot she'd claimed for herself on the opposite side of him from Estella. Grinning at him, she cupped one of her hands at the side of her mouth and shouted the next part through the gate. “Ugly son of a bitch has nothing on the likes of us!"
From behind Khari's shoulder, wild curls flew as Zahra drew herself up on the balls of her feet. "We'll show you where to shove your bloody end!" She screamed it at the door, eyes wide and mouth set into a determined grin. She looked exhausted. Her little tussel on the Skyhold's wall had rendered most of her quiver empty, save for a handful of arrows. Even so, she seemed to swell with all of the energy at her sides, as they yelled and beat their chests.
At the line just behind them, Harellan chuckled softly, placing a hand on Estella's uninjured shoulder and squeezing. When he drew away, it was with the soft hum of a conjured weapon, flourishing both and pointing the blades at the ground. The two other Lions in the group, Donnelly and Hissrad, weren't far from their friend, either, the characteristic bravery of their ilk probably not allowing them to take safer spots at the back.
Lord D'Artignon and his detachment of household troops, certainly not expecting to fight so soon, had nevertheless prepared quickly once the attack started, and now made up the left flank of the formation, ready to fall on Corypheus's forces in the event they pushed too far into Skyhold.
Even some of those who did not typically fight had taken the field to defend their hope. Further back, their mechanist was loading a crossbow almost as big as she was. Lia's scouts had remained afield, arranged behind the main body, bows at the ready. Signy's entire clan of Avvar, few as they were, threaded themselves among the regulars as well, their black-and-white warpaint a sharp contrast to the silver and russet of most of the regulars' uniforms. Reed stood among those, having survived the collapse of Leon's tower, now commanding Captain Pavell's usual detachment in his absence.
Aurora and what mages survived the dragon's attack on the wall appeared, looking worse for the wear. The woman herself had her clothes singed with ash dusting the armor on her arms, and blood leaked from cuts she'd sustained but otherwise looked to be relatively intact. The same could not be said about her unit. The grim look on her face, edged with a calm fury told them all that they needed to know. Wordlessly, they filtered throughout the main body of the regulars, while Aurora herself chose a spot near the front. It appeared as if Sparrow had made it alive. Her ridiculously large mace bobbed between the remnants of soot-faced mages as they made their way to the door. The front of her dragonhide leathers was smeared with blood and where she walked, a spackled mess of red dropped in her wake, though it wasn't readily apparent where her wound was, if it was hers at all. She grit her teeth, which appeared stained, as well. Her eyebrows were drawn together, murky eyes hard as stone. She glanced over at Aurora once, and took her place at her side.
Bang, bang. The doors wouldn't hold much longer. Already the regulars holding them were showing clear signs of losing the struggle, their feet sliding back against the flagstones. Estella pulled in a deep breath, glancing once at Rom and offering a subtle nod. Gripping her saber, she pulled it from the sheath and turned to face the assembled.
"Years ago," she said, her voice clear even over the collisions. "I made you a promise. Today—today that promise is fulfilled. Today, we will fell this false god, and we will be victorious." She set her jaw, swallowed, and continued. "I don't know if Corypheus is trembling... but he damn well ought to be. Let's show him why."
"Death's all that waits for him here!" Vesryn shouted, straining with the effort of holding the gate. "Let him come and get it!" As one they pulled away, giving up their attempts brace the gate and sprinting back to rejoin the formation. It lasted only a few more seconds after that before they burst open, and a pride demon charged through.
A quickly charged ball of lightning flew from its hands, burning shocks lashing over a swath of the Inquisition soldiers. Corypheus lifted his elven orb and a rift opened at the gate. Screeching horrors spewed forth, falling upon them and hacking into their lines. The sheer force of the attack took them a moment to recover from, but they did recover, and before long they were pushing back.
Corypheus was among the first through the gates after the wave of demons, friend and foe falling away from him where he walked. All save for Rom and Estella, the two he wanted to see dead most. It wasn't that simple on their end, though; that rift needed to be closed, or else the army would have endless demons to deal with in addition to Corypheus's forces.
But even that would be no simple matter: demons on top of Venatori and red templars were a tall order, even for a force as practiced as the Inquisition. Estella sprang forward, clearly intent on at least getting closer to the darkspawn, but her path was swiftly blocked by a despair demon, shooting a beam of ice into the thick of the Inquisition forces. Estella rolled, coming up on its side and slashing, nearly parting its head from its shoulders and winning herself a few more steps forward. The rift still roiled, crystals shifting and rearranging themselves—not weak enough yet, even though the demons it spawned were falling around it, the Inquisition's press forward dropping them one by one. The Pride demon still fought at the right side of the line, but the smaller ones were spawning more slowly now.
By the time she was close enough to hit it with her Anchor, it had collapsed in on itself, dormant for the moment. But they recovered if left too long, and she chose to try and close it now rather than wait for another chance, lifting her right arm towards it. With a crackle and a low hum, the familiar green light streaked towards the rift like it was magnetized; Estella grimaced and strafed sideways to avoid an incoming spear, the connection faltering for a moment.
Vesryn covered her, shield-smashing the Venatori aside and dealing with him with little of the grace all of them had come to expect from the elf. Corypheus turned to attack Estella from behind, intent on stopping her from sealing the rift, but Rom had made a beeline for him, ignoring any other enemies that sought to strike him, trusting that his friends would keep them off his back. He did that now for Estella by stabbing his blade into Corypheus, finding a place to bury it in his lower back and stopping the magister in his tracks. He growled, spinning and swinging, but Rom was already gone, ducking and rolling away.
A loud crack rent the air as the rift shattered into nothingness, Estella's mark having closed it for good. Corypheus bellowed wordless frustration at them, unleashing a blast of raw magic from the elven orb he carried. It threw everyone to the ground around him, both his allies and enemies, and in the space that provided Corypheus used a spell to hurl himself into the air, flying deeper into Skyhold, and higher still, striving for the main keep.
Rom got back to his feet, remaining low in a wary crouch. The others were making good on their progress, and had fiercely fought the remaining demons, Venatori, and other enemies to a standstill, giving their Inquisitors the opportunity to engage Corypheus on their own. He saw the magister blast aside the doors to the keep, and disappear inside.
"Estella! Get us up there." He was already making his way to her. Whatever Corypheus planned to do up there, they needed to stop it.
"Got it." She was already concentrating on the mark again, this time to wash them both in green light. She stepped in close, as the transport necessitated, gripping his armor by the far shoulder, near the neck. There was a feeling like being dipped in water, but it faded quickly. "Step with me."
He did, and all of a sudden the keep stairs loomed in front of them. Estella released him, already taking the first two at once.
Rom moved to follow her, but they both had to stop when the ground suddenly shook with unexpected force, as though a powerful earthquake had just hit Skyhold. He could hear stonework collapsing, distant sections of the fortress falling apart under the strain.
A blast of magic energy erupted out of the keep's roof and streaked into the sky, colored the same green as the marks on their hands. It reached cloud level, and there began another rift, well out of their reach. Rom could see it growing, though, threatening to expand. He knew that sight well enough, from the first time he'd stepped out of the Haven chantry and looked into the sky. Corypheus was trying to remake the Breach.
They didn't delay any longer, sprinting up the stairs when they got their feet under them again and passing through the open doors. Corypheus had forcefully blasted aside the tables and benches, clearing an empty space before the pair of thrones at the end of the hall. The orb crackled with magic in his hand, the energy drifting away and floating up into the sky.
"The blood shed here will pave my way into the Fade," he said, stalking towards them. "I will take great pleasure extracting the life from both of you."
He went for Estella first, firing a heavy blast of force magic that she just barely managed to spin away from. But she hadn't taken more than two steps towards him before she faltered, picked up by the second spell and hurled back into one of the heavy wooden tables. It shuddered under the impact, one of the legs snapping off with the angle at which she struck it.
Rom pulled up instead of charging, waiting for Estella to recover so they could attack together. Corypheus wasn't content to wait, launching a wave of ice magic at him, stabbing spikes that erupted out of the floor in his direction. He timed their approach and leaped over them, nearrowly avoiding being skewered and rolling back to his feet. Corypheus had fade-stepped closer to him in the time that took, blasting Rom's shield away with spirit magic, then hitting him fully with the followup attack, an unnaturally strong swipe of his hand to Rom's upper body. He was tossed away and landed flat on his back, and Corypheus advanced again, charging up some kind of spell with the orb.
A crack followed, one that might have been the release of the spell, except that Estella appeared right beside him in the heartbeat after, resolutely not looking at Corypheus as she'd been warned. She paused only long enough to grab his arm, and then there was another splitting sound, and they were looking at Corypheus's back. Where Estella still held him, he felt more magic, different from the kind in the Anchors. This must be the kind that had kept Vesryn barely on the right side of functioning for a few months—it wasn't completely unlike what the tonics had used to feel like, before he stopped taking them.
"Quick," she urged, "there's not much time." Before Corypheus turned to face them and aimed the spell, or before whatever it was took effect, maybe. Which one she meant hardly mattered.
The magic flowing the from the orb had turned a bright red, not unlike the hazy glow given off by red lyrium. Instantly traveling around the room like this was disorienting, but Rom got his bearings quickly enough to charge Corypheus from behind, throwing himself into a leap that would leave him near the magister's head. Unfortunately the spell did not need to be aimed, as Corypheus lifted it and out pulsed a powerful wave of magic in all direction with speed he could not react to. It washed over him with a heat like fire that did not burn, and left his chest feeling like it was on fire, his organs all suddenly screaming for relief.
He crashed to the ground at Corypheus's feet instead of grappling onto his head, and when the darkspawn turned he brought down a heavy claw like hand with brutal speed. It carved gashes into Rom's shield first, before carrying on to his torso and his legs, leaving bloody rends down the length of him. A blast of force magic tossed him aside, and Corypheus advanced on Estella next.
Alarm was scrawled across her features; frantically she cast about for something to use, something to do to stave off the approaching darkspawn. Her free hand closed over her throne; with surprising strength, she lifted the ornate chair from the ground and hurled it.
Corypheus broke it apart in midair, but Rom's matching seat followed quickly, and that one broke apart over Corypheus's body, clattering to the floor. When he hurled a fireball in retaliation, Estella just barely got clear, ducking behind the stone dais.
"Pathetic. Your desperation is amusing. Flee and hide, it will not save you."
As the fire from his spell cleared, Corypheus followed it with a swift blast a pure arcane force, shattering the dais that was Estella's cover. Momentarily she was gone in a cloud of dust and falling rubble, but then Corypheus had stepped with startling speed to her and snatched her up by a forearm, holding her several feet off the ground and pausing to examine her marked hand. She kicked and twisted, the mark on her hand pulsing wildly, but there was no getting leverage over him, and she was left to hang uncomfortably.
"You are as unworthy as the other. Join him."
He hurled her through the air towards where Rom still lay, trying to rise and battling his wounds. She came down hard on her injured shoulder with a cry, not loud enough to mask the crunch of it breaking, and rolled onto her back, wheezing thinly.
Finally, Corypheus seemed to have no more words, nothing more to spew at them. Rom took this as a sign that he was intent on killing them here and now. He'd stalked halfway down the hall, orb pulsating angrily, when suddenly he gasped as if in shock. Rom looked to find him on one knee, clutching his chest and in obviously pain. A wave of something, like a cool wind, washed over the hall and settled upon Corypheus, and he seemed well and truly stunned by it.
"It cannot be," he said. "I have walked the halls of the Golden City, crossed the ages... Dumat! Ancient ones, I beseech you. If you exist—if you truly ever existed—aid me now!"
Rom had managed to get to his knees, grabbing his blade where it had fallen on the floor. He looked to where Estella was at his side. "The dragon, it has to be... he must be vulnerable." They had to get up, they had to end him now.
Estella rolled to her hands and knees, wheezes becoming gasps. Something was wrong with her mark—it was still pulsing fast, probably in time with her heartbeat, but from the twist of her mouth and the tears at the corner of her eyes, it was also causing her tremendous pain. She bent forward over her unbroken arm, cradling the hand close to her chest, groaning through gritted teeth.
This seemed to produce some kind of reaction. The orb itself changed, light flickering from red to green, brightening and fading in time with her half of the Anchor. "Go," she choked. "I can stun him, I can—you have to kill him."
With a raw shout, she thrust her hand towards Corypheus, almost as if she were trying to close a rift. But the orb in his hand shook, shuddered, and then tore free, flying over the space between them until her fingers closed over it, digging into the whorls and ridges on its surface. A spear of green light shot from the device, streaking across the room and slamming into Corypheus's chest, throwing him all the way back into the crumbled remains of the dais.
Rom had gotten to his feet, and then he was moving, the weight of every moment he'd lived through carrying him towards Corypheus. First a walk, then a stumbling jog, and then a full sprint, snarling and dropping his blade as he ran. Corypheus was trying to rise when he reached him, but Rom put an end to that with a blast from his mark, delivered with a punch that when combined sent Corypheus flat on his back. He had no power over their marks, not when he was without the orb.
Rom descended on him, planting his hand atop his corrupted, darkspawn forehead, and he let the mark do the rest. The same way it had done for Adan Borja, who had tried to kill someone he loved. Corypheus would kill everything he loved, if given the chance.
"You'll never walk the Fade again," he growled down at him. Corypheus was already groaning in pain. "You'll never be a god. You're nothing at all." His mark placed a larger rift than he meant inside the darkspawn magister. Half of him was already gone, torn away into nothingness, when he forced it to collapse on itself. It exploded outwards, throwing him off of where Corypheus had been, while bits and pieces of their enemy were scattered all over the hall. Rom landed with a thud, and lay still on his back. Above him, through the blasted hole in the ceiling, he could still see the Breach hovering in the clouds, a growing maelstrom.
The irregular sound of footsteps heralded Estella's approach, though they were more a shuffle than anything. The both of them weren't in good shape, but they were alive, and Corypheus was not. "I think..." she said, voice almost swallowed by the open air and strange, eerie stillness. "I think we can use this to close it, if we work together." Her eyes were fixed on the focus itself, head cocked like she was hearing something that wasn't actually audible, but she shook it off and looked down at him instead.
"I'd offer you a hand, but my other one's broken. Let's be done with it, shall we?"
"Gladly." Groaning, he rolled over first and pushed off the ground, getting back to his feet that way. He could tell right away that she was on to something about the orb. He touched his marked hand to it, as she was already doing. Something not unlike the way they'd both been marked to begin with, the way they survived the blast that destroyed the Conclave.
Lifting to orb towards the heavens, it suddenly erupted with a pillar green light, one that reached up into the sky with a thunderous roar. His legs shook; he didn't doubt Estella was having trouble staying upright too, but they fought through it, held it there until it was done. When at last the energy was expended, the elven orb shattered in their hands, the pieces raining down around them as charred hunks of metallic stone.
But the Breach was gone once more, the clouds in the sky already stilling and calming. Outside, Rom could hear the cheers of victory rising from the Inquisition forces.
It was over. It was done. And the Inquisitors were still standing, triumphant together.