DA:I | Simply Solavellan: A Timeline ✔️

The Warmth of Hope

As I took a step backward, I stepped on a rusty old hammer with my bad foot and tripped on it. My back hit the side of the mining cart filled with old tools, which rattled and slammed into the cart behind it. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to cry out in pan as I had wracked my ribs with pain.

Then I heard the high-pitched hiss of the frost demon who had turned his attention down the tunnel. A cold sweat overtook my palms and my neck. The demons floated their way toward me with hisses and screeches. 

Tears filled my eyes as my inevitable doom crept closer and closer. This isn't how I wanted it to end. No one would ever find me here. I reached for the tools inside the mine cart and flung them at the demons in a desperate attempt to deter them, crying and screaming for them to come no closer. I reached out as they closed in on me to force their distance.

Then the mark on my hand suddenly burst alight. A green, glowing ball formed in the center of the tunnel and seemingly began to suck the demons into it. Their forms stretched and contorted as they were sucked into the green light. Then the light vanished, and I was once again left alone in the silence.

I blinked, mouth agape. I had never done that before.

Whatever had happened, it took a lot of the energy I had left. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and give up. I forced myself to get to my feet and continue walking.

Finally, I had made it to the end of the mine shaft and into the open air of the vast, snowy plains. The wind howled and froze my very core. I began the trek into the wilderness to find the remains of the Inquisition.

I tried to shield my eyes from the snow. The moonlight was of little help out here with how heavy the snowfall was. The wind was blowing the loose snow from the mountains as well, and every now and then, the moon would be blocked by heavy grey clouds.

In the distance, I spotted a cart that had been burning. The flame had almost went out entirely. Once I had reached the cart, I knew it had to be one of ours. I recognized the bindings on the wheat, the fabric of the sacks of beans. It was left in the snow because the wheel had broken off, and it caught fire from the broken oil lamp. The snow finally snuffed out the last of the flame as I continued my journey.

It felt like I had been traveling for hours. The cold had almost frozen me to death. I couldn't feel my fingers, ears, toes, or nose. My teeth chattered and my body shook so violently that it jarred my ribs constantly. I prayed to Mythal that I would make it back to my friends alive.

I could feel myself losing consciousness. I trudged on through the ankle-deep snow, weary and almost out of hope until I spotted hot embers from a small campfire. I pushed onward with sheer force of will until I could see them in the distance. I could see everyone in their camp at the base of a small mountain, fires alight and tents strewn about and horses tied onto temporary posts. There were a few stray lights who I assumed were scouts or a search party.

I had no way of showing them that I was there so I continued walking until my legs wouldn't carry me anymore. I collapsed into the snow. As I lost consciousness and begged for mercy from the Gods that this blasted cold would be over soon, I faintly heard someone cry, "It's her! Thank the Maker!"

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I was too exhausted to dream. I was thankful, because of my recurring nightmares of red lyrium, distorted faces, and torturous deaths. When I awoke, I was in a cot, bandaged, warm, and with a tent above my bed. I could hear raised voices outside the tent. I looked around, and Mother Gizelle sat beside me, silently praying over me.

The voices outside sounded like Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine all talking over each other in disagreement. 

"We must see reason!" Josephine pleaded. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled!"