Ghost Story

[Varric]

"Very much so," Varric says firmly. "I'm worried about you too, you know. At least I can handle myself in a fight. Sorry. Not trying to-- Lessons. Lessons good."

[Marian Hawke]

"Yeah. Lessons good."

[GamesMaster]

He could feel nir die. Could feel a place in his heart where ne nestles, connected and vibrant as his heartbeat, can sense nir life pulsing, vibrating with each breath. The treasured one, the precious one, the most important thing. And then, he can feel the hit as the necrotic energy pulses through nir tiny, fragile body. Can feel the sense of being torn, can feel the equilibrium rip away from under him. It should have been me. My purpose is to protect that tiny, fragile life. How could I let it be destroyed right in front of me? I did everything you asked. Please. Stay with me.

He stumbles, falls to the ground. He can barely crawl, struggling to move his now-heavy limbs toward nem, placing his head on ner chest. The sounds of the others in the house seem distant, far away: shouting, crying, screaming. There's so much blood. How can there be this much blood? It doesn't matter. He can feel nir chest, so still under his head. He can feel nir body heat fading, cooling. He can feel nir life dwindling away, the little fragments left behind vanishing. And he's tired. So tired. He can feel his own life fading, chasing, going where ne went. Of course he belongs where ne went. Even if it's death. He goes where ne goes. 

He goes. 

Varric wakes up, heart pounding in his chest where a moment ago he could only feel stillness, breath loud where a moment before there was silence. 

[Varric]

Varric lays there in the bed, eyes open and unfocused, hand slowly unclenching around the handle of his weapon. "Fucking hate this house," he mutters in dwarven.

[GamesMaster]

"Varric?" For a moment, it's nir voice, but then it changes, becoming higher, softer. "Varric, are you listening?"

[Varric]

"...yeah," he sighs.

[GamesMaster]

"You have to figure it out. Before The Last Breath's Day." It's Bethie's voice, sitting on the end of his bed, as usual. "He's strong then. Too strong. We can't last. I'm sorry but you have to figure it out."

[Varric]

"Bullshit," Varric snaps, though there's less bite in his voice than it might normally have for such a comment. "Just have to destroy it first then."

[GamesMaster]

"Figure it out. There's holes in your defenses."

[Varric]

"I don't need to-- the spirit has nothing to do with the mysteries here. I destroy it, it's gone." Varric grins, a savage expression. "Worst to worst, the day before I set the entire place ablaze and sow the ashes with purified salt and holy water."

[GamesMaster]

"You'll kill the ghosts, all the ghosts, if you do that. Me. Silence. Everyone."

[Varric]

Varric frowns, working through that for a moment. "Silence is-- oh. The mabari?" He exhales slowly. "Would that be bad? Do you not want to... go on?"

[GamesMaster]

"I don't know," she says quietly. "What happens if you destroy the house while I'm in it? Is it the end? Like it will be for you?"

[Varric]

"Not the same at all," Varric says slowly. "This isn't you, it's just an impression of you." He pauses, rethinking that. "Isn't it? I suppose I didn't-- with how hard you've been struggling with memories and expressing yourself, I assumed you were an echo, not a fully bound soul."

[GamesMaster]

"I don't know what I am," she says. "I know who I am. But what? I don't. It's easier to talk when you have death dreams. During the day I'm not very smart. I'm sorry."