A Change of the Script

Chapter 5

With another glance at her friends to make sure that they were alright she sprinted to the final balista. She could see that the dragon was badly injured. But not badly enough. This had better work. She thought as she loaded the bolt and cranked the balista round to face the dragon. She knew that if she tried to get close toit in it's current condition she would not succeed in defeating the Archdemon. Her only hope was to weaken it further and she hoped that this final balista would do the trick.

As she fired and reloaded the darkspawn renewed their attack on her small party. The mini army that had joined them were practically pinned on the opposite side of the Archdemon, fighting Alphas, Emissaries and Hurlocks. Knowing that they wouldn't be able to help her small group Lyna tried to speed up the process as she say two Emissaries prepare attacks directed at her. Just as she thought she would get hit a shimmering blue barrier surrounded her. The attacks hit the barrier, barely staggering Lyna as they dissolved. As the final bolt flew from the balista the Emissaries started casting again but didn't finish. The Archdemon reared far back on it's hind legs letting out a powerful and deafening roar. It landed so heavily that the Fort shook making everyone but Lyna, who had braced herself against the balista, stumble and fall to their knees.

Using this as her cue, Lyna sprinted fast past her three companions towards the Archdemon. She made sure her path would take her past the sword. As she got closer an Alpha managed to get to his feet in her path. Barely breaking her stride she slid across the blood strewn ground and dragged her blades across the front of it's ankles and the backs of it's knees. As it fell she used her momentum to roll to her feet and dash towards the sword. Dropping her daggers she grabbed the sword from the Genlock and ran straight at the injured dragon. She could hear voices calling out to her, Alistair's being the one she focussed on naturally. Although she fought the urge to turn around she knew she would see him fighting like crazy to catch up to her. She had to make it and keep the distance between them. A new sense of urgency entered her tired muscles as she forced them to speed up and carry her towards her destiny.

Upon reaching the Archdemon it was as if the final scene had been scripted and rehearsed. As it raised it's head up, neck outstretched, Lyna slid under, dragging the sword through the soft exposed tissue and muscles. Blood poured like heavy rain from the slit she created, running through her already grime covered hair and down over her. The dragon let out an agonizing sound that would have been a roar if not so mortally wounded then it's head fell heavily onto the ground as it could no longer support it. Turning the blade so that it pointed down she walked to it's head and raised the blade high, ready to pierce through it's eye into it's brain. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Alistair fighting his way towards her with Wynn and Zev beside him.

I'm sorry. she thought as a tear finally fell from her eye and made it's way down her cheek. Please live for me. Ar lath ma, Vhenan. With this final thought she drove the sword through the Archdemon and her whole world exploded with the most excrutiating pain that she was unable to even breath for the briefest moment, then went white.

O-o-o-o-o-o

NOOOOO!!! Alistair's mind screamed as his voice shouted "LYNA!!!" She wasn't listening. As soon as everyone had stumbled she was off like a released arrow. He watched as she sprinted towards the Archdemon as though the darkspawn were snapping at her heels. Quickly he got to his feet and started towards her. Dimly he was aware of Wynn and Zevran joining him as he fought darkspawn that appeared before him. His main focus was to try to reach the Dalish Elf who was so far from him. In horror he watched as an Alpha rose to it's feet between her and the towering dragon. His heart almost stopped as he saw the way she incapacitated it and continued on at a faster rate, grabbing the sword that he had dropped earlier in the battle. At one point his sword and shield had been ripped from him and he'd been forced to use the two handed blade until he could reclaim his weapons.

As he plunged his sword into a Hurlocks chest he realized he was still calling out to her but couldn't make himself stop. I should have thought. Of course she'd do this. She always has a plan. I should have been able to stop her. He berated himself as he ran. No matter how fast he moved more darkspawn kept getting in his way and slowed him down. As he saw her slide under it's neck, destroying tissue and muscle he knew he was too late. It wasn't until he saw her raise the sword for one final attack he let out one final shout, full of fear and anguish. "LYNA!!!!"

As her blade descended, he felt his heart stop and suddenly a pillar of white light rose from the the beast and engulfed both it and Lyna. No sooner had the light appeared when a wave of explosive energy blasted outwards, knocking everyone off their feet.

Though dazed, Alistair climbed to his feet, muscles protesting at the abuse, and looked around him. Zevran was on his feet and helping a very unsteady Wynn to hers. Both looked dazed and had a few cuts and already forming bruises but otherwise seemed alright. The darkspawn remaining on the roof were scattering towards whatever exit they could find, ignoring the defenders they had been intent on destroying only moments before. The defenders, for their part, were picking off any darkspawn they could.

Turning, Alistair moved his gaze towards the now dead Archdemon. Slowly he stumbled forward, afraid of what he might see. As he moved closer he took in the sight of the enormous dragon and was a little in awe. For just over a year they had been building up to this moment. They had amassed an army of the different races, managed to get them to work together, defeated a tyrant and now, destroyed a corrupted Tevinter old God. And at the forefront of it all had been a wild Dalish Elf who hadn't wanted anything to do with the 'Shemlen' war. He couldn't believe that this moment had come. He was also afraid that it had because he couldn't see the frustratingly determined Dalish Elf that had laid claim to his heart in a way he knew no one would be able to ever again. Feeling his panic start to rise, he moved his gaze frantically around the beast until he saw a lightly tanned bare leg poking out from under a dead, crushed Genlock. Alistair's feet were moving before he registered what he was doing. In a flash he was by her side hauling the Genlock corpse from her and tossing it aside like a rag doll. Once in full view he took in her appearance. She had cuts and bruises littering her exposed skin, her honey brown hair was matted with with blood as was a good portion of her skin and armor. The skirt of her leather armor had been ripped at some point and one of her leather guards were missing. Her skin was pale which made her Vallaslin stand out more prominantly. She had once told him that the design was to honour Andruil, the Elven God of the hunt.

Though he took all these details in with his glance there was one thing that he noticed that overruled it all. Lyna didn't appear to be breathing. He was kneeling next to her in an instant, cradling her to his chest. No, no, no. She can't be dead, she can't be. The denial ran through his head like a mantra as he tried to deny what seemed to be real. Glancing around desperately at his companions for help he saw that they were beginning to mourn their friend. Wynn appeared to be holding back tears whilst Zevran looked as though his heart had been ripped out, clutching something hanging around his neck with a white knuckled fist.

Turning his attention back to Lyna he kept searching for some sign of life. She has to be alright, she has to. But she's so pale already. He could feel the grief build within his chest. That stupid ritual was supposed to work. Why didn't it work?? It was supposed to save her. I should have been faster, I should have saved her. He could feel the tears of regret and self blame form behind his eyes as he hung his head and rested hers on his lap.

As he looked at her he thought he saw her chest moving. Dismissing it as wishful thinking he stroked a strand of hair from her face and then rested his hand on her chest. I'm sorry, I wasn't fast enough. He thought as he looked at her closed eyes. She almost looks as though.....His thoughts stopped short as he felt a slight movement under his hand. Carefully he moved so he could put his ear to her chest. As he did he could see both Zevran and Wynn watch him, their sorrow filled gazes changing to confusion then hopeful. Holding his breath he listened carefully. Faintly he could hear the beat of her heart and feel her chest move as she took shallow, sluggish breaths.

A small cry of anguished joy escaped him in that moment as he turned to their friends, shocked joy filling his eyes.

   "She's alive!"