Fen'Tarasyl

Chapter Eighteen

There was only darkness, and the cold touch of death. Talyn blindly gripped onto the ice that would become her coffin and desperately pulled, frantically trying to climb out of the snow piled on top of her. It seemed like an impossible feat, because the more Talyn climbed, the more snow that seemed to fall on her. She could barely breathe, the snow was everywhere, clogging her nose, her mouth. Panic was starting to consume her. She fought harder, reaching her hands as far as they would go, grabbing a hold of anything that wouldn't crumble at the slightest pressure.

She felt her hand reach up out of the snow. She felt around, and her fingers brushed something solid. She grabbed onto it, fighting to shove her other hand up out of the snow. Once both hands were holding the object, she pulled with all her might.

The full moon and fresh air greeted her. She gasped for air as she pulled herself up out of the snow and collapsed.

She rolled onto her back and looked at her surroundings. The avalanche had carried her down the mountain, and she had fallen through the caved in ceiling of what looked like an abandoned mining tunnel. The full moon shone down from the opening where Talyn must have fallen through, being buried under what had felt like a mountain of snow. Snow slowly poured through the opening in the ceiling, like an hourglass.

The walls were rough, and made of stone, with quick, careless construction to hold up the ceiling. Perhaps, if whoever had created this tunnel all those years ago, had actually done their job correctly the mining tunnel would still be open.

She was so cold, but so warm. She was exhausted, her energy spent beyond any point of return. As she lay there, she felt her body relaxing, her eyes closing as the warmth she began to feel started to lull her into a much-needed sleep.

Sleep. The mountain whispered to her. Give into me.

There was something she had to do though.

No. The mountain told her. There is nothing to do but dream.

Yes. Dream. Talyn wanted to dream of the blazing sun, and a hot meal. She wanted to smell and hear and feel a crackling fire. She wanted to dream of days where she was free of pain, of worry, of sorrow.

There was something warm on the back of her head. It tickled. She lifted a heavy arm and scratched, only for her head to sting. She lifted her head a fraction of an inch, opened her eyes just enough so she could look at the red liquid on her fingers.

That's odd, Talyn thought. Why was she bleeding?

Ignore it.

Talyn laid her head back down on the snow, and closed her eyes.

But then, in her mind, she saw a face. A bald elf with eyes that glimmered like a stormy sea, his face twisted in grief and worry as he stared at her.

Solas.

The world came crashing down on her. She was freezing to death.

Talyn forced her cold, shaking limbs to move.

Solas.

His voice rang in her head.

"I will never leave your side."

She couldn't leave him. Or Cassandra, or Varric, or Iron Bull, who was already grieving at the loss of Dalish and Skinner. She couldn't leave the people that depended on her, the people that needed her to save them from the Elder One.

She stumbled to her feet. Talyn felt like she was floating, delirious from hypothermia and the nasty head wound she had acquired in her battle. But she pushed herself to move, to walk. She had no idea where she was, but she walked anyways to get her blood moving, to warm up her frozen body and stave off the cold touch of death.