knight_enchanter | Drabble 1 (Reply)

She was unused to physical labor having grown up in the Circle at Ostwick. The act of scaling the ladders in the chill mountain air made her chest ache, and spots danced before her eyes, yet she kept going. The strange and alien mark on her hand throbbed, making her nerves sting, though the ache was duller now than when she'd awoken in the cell.

Behind her, she could hear the others puffing away as they trudged over the snowy platforms that creaked ominously under their weight. There were steps in the tower, old wooden ones which sounded much the same, groaning every time someone stepped on them. Those steps at least didn't hint a plunge down the side of a mountain should the old wood suddenly give way.

Everything filled her with a sense of trepidation. The climb, her mark, even the sudden reliance placed upon her in choosing which way they should go. It might have been easier down in the valley, even with the threat of demons. Others would have been at the fore, doing the brunt of the work. She wasn't opposed to working and carrying her weight. No, she had done more than enough at the circle and then later after everything fell apart. However, she was in shock still and it left her feeling numb. There was no way for her to check her mental state and decide if she was making a good decision in clambering up the treacherous mountain path. She didn't even have time yet to process the death of everyone at the Divine's Conclave let alone the death of the Divine herself. She didn't think she should be a sobbing wreck as that was not her style, but this numbness still worried her.

Clearing the ladder, she stepped to one side and pressed her glowing hand against the rocky face of the mountain, pausing to catch her breath. The cold did nothing to quell the burning tingle that danced under her skin beneath the mark, but it offered her some stability and helped her to anchor herself in the here and now without dwelling on the past or casting her mind into the future.

It was hard to breathe here where the air was thin.The effort of it was making her dizzy, or perhaps her shock was finally starting to wear away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to the tides of emotions that were no doubt seething deep down away from her waking mind. Swallowing down a burst of panic, she pressed her forehead to the cold stone and muddled through the chant of light as best she could in order to distract herself.

Behind her, she could hear the others clambering up the ladder now. The heavy sound of boot steps and the creak of leather told her that Varric was the next one up. He stepped past her, looking grim and not at all happy for the physical labour, though it was clear he was still in better shape than her. Then came Solas. Although he moved with deliberation, testing his footing with every step, there was also a sort of self-assuredness in his stride that he would catch himself before he slipped. Finally, Cassandra brought up the rear. Each of her heavy footfalls sounded loud and jarring in the snowy silence. It felt as if she was unconsciously determined to leave her mark here on this frozen landscape.

Pushing off from the wall, Sadira glanced to the others, noting that their eyes rested upon her. Instinctively her lips twitched up into a small smile, a habit borne from the complex life she'd led within the Circle. The cold air made her cheeks hurt, she kept the smile, holding it for a second longer in an attempt to allay fears and make people feel at ease. It was hard work when she felt nothing like it herself. However, her family had taught her that keeping up appearances was necessary, no matter what, so of course she strove to do just that. Squaring her shoulders back, she stepped away from the cliff face and towards the yawning opening of the mine.