Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 20: Nightmares

Dru and the rat made their way through the Fade, picking through grand ruins, dense forests, and deep marshes. Occasionally, wisps of blue or yellow light would pass by them, brushing across Dru's skin as it investigated the stranger to its realm. Niall informed her that they were spirits. Whether friendly or not, they didn't stick around to find out.

Niall's pace slowed as they approached a crumbled watchtower that sat alone at the end of a shallow lake. It was made of blackened stone and covered by thick vines that almost concealed a small wooden door at the base. 

"This is where I found one of them," Niall informed her. "The nightmare was... not pleasant. It's best you go on alone."

A few small stepping stones were cast out across the lake, leading the way directly to the watchtower. She stopped at the shore and peered into the gloomy green waters before her. Deep beneath the algae, she could see a few corpses submerged in the water, their eyes absent from their skulls. Unnerved, she made her way across the stones slowly, careful not to touch the water's surface. When she reached the end, she leapt onto dry land. Seizing the handle of the wooden door, she swept it open and hurried inside the tower, slamming the door behind her.

It was dark inside, lit only by a few rays of light that peeked through the cracks in the stone. Dru blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust. There was no floor, and she realised that she stood on a small and fragile landing. A wooden staircase weaved its way to the rafters above, and down into the blackness of the cellar beneath her feet.

The sound of a man screaming echoed from below.

Her stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots, Dru pressed a hand against the wall and headed down the stairs. The deeper she descended, the more absent the light became. At one stage she was walking in pure darkness, her heart thudding in her ears as she tried to avoid missing a step.

As she neared the bottom, her way became lit by iron sconces that lined the walls, dim green flames burning the candles within. Through the gap in the stairs, she saw two men standing on either side of a long table, where a third man lay. The table was raised at a slight angle, and the man's hands and wrists were tied to a roller above his head and beneath his feet. 

There was a wooden crank at the ends of the top roller, and the two men laughed as they turned it in unison. They were both elven, their arms and faces tattooed with various symbols and images. They wore loose white tunics with matching blue vests, and each carried a long curved sword at their waist.

With each turn, the victim's limbs stretched and the man would grit his teeth and grunt. As Dru came closer, she realised that the man was Zevran.

Dru sprinted down the remaining stairs, her daggers already in her hands before she even knew it.

"Stop!"

The torturers turned in surprise. Zevran strained his neck to peer at her.

"Rinna?" he blurted. For a moment there was hope in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. "No. It's you. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to save you."

Zevran shook his head. "I can't," he said. "I need to stay strong. I'm going to be a crow. This is my test. I need to show them that I can tolerate pain."

"You're already an Antivan Crow," Dru said irritably. "Don't you remember the Circle? The abomination? Take a look around you. This isn't home. You're in the Fade."

"That cannot be, and yet..." His eyes widened as he looked around the gloomy cellar. "Is this nothing but a bad dream? A bad memory?"

Glowering, the torturers returned their attention to their victim.