"Handler of the Multiverse: Dragon Age"

Chapter: 3

"To the first rift."



The woman currently holding his chains, Cassandra if he remembers correctly, led him towards the fist gate.

Along the way he saw many other residents of this world as they try to recover from the attack he, presumably, took part in.

Many injured, traumatised, scared and hopeless.

And many many more dead, covered by canvases and prayed over by chantry priests.

He sees all this.

All this pain and misery, and feels inexplicably responsible.

This was his creation, and those were his people. They prayed to him to come and help but he was too busy to answer and now-


He stops himself in his tracks, shaking his head and looking away from the angry glares he was receiving.

'This was my responsibility… once.' He thought, eyes narrowed as he jumped over the holes in the bridge they were crossing. Now… now this district belonged to one of his children, Fen'Harel.

'Speaking of which…' Mycroft frowned, nearly missing a step and falling to his doom if not for Cassandra stepping in and pulling him towards her with an irritated snort. 'Where exactly is that dear dear prodigal son of mine?'

They finally reach the gate at the end of the bridge, being guarded by two soldiers.

"Open the gate! We are headed into the valley!" Cassandra called out to the soldiers, who gave Mycroft a long, hard stare before reluctantly complying.

They proceed further, now heading left and upwards. The hidden God counted each and every dead body he passed on the way, wanting to wave the number in front of Fen'Harel's face, ask "why did you let this happen?" and say "I'm making you accountable for every. Single. One of them." regardless of his answer.

The boy was responsible for these people. And he let their world flip upside down and fall into chaos.

They were running up a hill when the damn mark on his left hand decided to flare again, making him fall to the ground with a loud gasp.

'MOTHER OF-.' Mycroft hissed, caught off guard, forehead pressed to the ground, his right hand digging into the ground in and his entire body shaking. 'I'm taking back everything I said about this thing. It hurts so much I think I'd rather it be cut off-Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!'

Unbeknownst to Cassandra, his eyes flash blue and the mark abruptly stops flaring as it listens to his unspoken command.

He huffs and puffs, forcing his mind to count to ten until the pain goes away, all the while wishing that Fen'Harel's irresponsible actions regarding his designated world, have never been discovered.

Because using his own powers turned out to be no less painful than surrendering to the Mark. His body convulsing with pain and agony as his unnatural energy flew through it, giving him the distinct impression that this body might not be able to take the abuse, if he uses them too much.

Because if the brat had been doing what he had been told to, none of this would be happening right now.

Before the hidden God could start silently cursing his prodigal son to the High Heavens and back, the Seeker (which was something Cassandra had been called along the way by a few people) pulled him to a standing position.

"The pulses are coming faster now." The black haired, buff woman decided to inform him. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face."
All appeared to be logical... except for one Itty bitty little problem that has been bugging him from the very moment he woke up:
"How did I survive the blast?"

This was the million dollar question as, if he were to examine this with the eyes of a mortal man and not an all powerful God, he shouldn't be walking and talking, he should be dead.

"They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious." Cassandra supplied, shoving him down the next bridge. "They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you'll see soon enough."

He had no idea what she was talking about, and that feeling was beginning to be quite irritating.

He wasn't accustomed to having a human brain with limited information and processing power, thank-you-very-much.

The only thing that sounded familiar to the host he was inhabiting was the "Temple of Sacred Ashes" but even that bit of data had been obstructed by a fog he had no patience to deal with right now.

But despite being unfairly accused and his left arm hurting to the point of amputation looking quite welcoming, the most annoying thing of all was the fact that...

None of what Cassandra said, answered his damn question.

But before he could point that out to his dear guide, she pushed him and they were going down yet another bridge.

Mycroft was beginning to think this place is nothing but bridges… and then a boulder crashed down the one they were crossing and he found himself falling flat onto the hard ice that was below said bridge.

He grunted when he landed with his on his right arm with his full weight.

Cassandra landed right next to him with a full thud. Mycroft would feel bad for her but he was a bit busy dealing with his own pain right now.

"Get up!" The Seeker yelled as she pulled him to a standing position.

Before the red haired man could comprehend why he's suddenly standing, another boulder crashed. It hit the frozen river a short distance in front of Cassandra and a Shade, a dark looking creature with great claws , formed in a pool of green light.

"Stay behind me!" The Seeker called out to him before rushing to face the shade.

"No... problem." Mycroft coughed as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

While the woman bashed the demon with her sword, another one formed closer to him.

"This… this will be… a bit of a problem." He huffed, keeping a wary eye on the enemy that just spawned.

Unfortunately, the demon spotted him and was now crawling in his direction.

"Oh… Oh this is not good…" He whispered as he looked around for something, anything, to protect himself.

Seeing a pair of daggers on a dead body, he found himself pulling them out.

Apparently his host was a rouge, and those were his weapons of choice.

'How convenient.' Mycroft thought as he allowed muscle memory to take control and dispatch the Shade, his host's subconscious supplying him helpfully with the things name.

Once this demon fell to the ground and disappeared in a puff of smoke, he rushed to help Cassandra out, as she seemed to have a bit of a problem taking her opponent out. Strange considering how efficient she looked.

They worked well together, the hidden God had to admit, as they fought.

He, with his superior speed and double blades dealt most of the damage, while Cassandra, with her bulky armor and heavy shield took most of the damage and served as a nice cover to jump behind.

"It's over." Mycroft announced once this shade also disappeared from their sight.

But, just as he was about to hide his weapons, he finds himself at the pointy end of Cassandra's sword.

'Well… that escalated quickly.'

"Drop your weapon. Now." She hissed out, glaring at him as if he was no better than the demon they just killed.

Wanting to somehow convince her that he's not, in fact, the bad guy here, Mycroft acted accordingly.

"All right. Have it your way." He said in what he hoped was a submissive and obedient voice, while slowly lowering the daggers to the ground.

"Wait." She stops him before he could fully disarm himself. "I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless."

'True.' The red-haired man agreed. 'That would be quite beneficial if you want me alive for the trial I'm supposed to be having later.'

"I should remember that you agreed to come willingly." She added, now sounding a lot less aggressive.

Mycroft nodded soundlessly, still a bit winded from the constant waves of pain that he's been assaulted with.

'Judging from my labored breathing,' he thought, while looking around for more danger. 'I must have cracked a rib or two… I must be thankful for the adrenaline because, once it wears off, this will be agonizing.' He humphed, immediately wincing afterwards. 'Joy. Just… pure joy.'

Boy does he hate being human.

"Take these potions." Cassandra must have noticed him wincing, because next thing he knows she's pushing a small batch of potions into his hands. "Maker knows what we will face."

Mycroft nodded in thanks, accepting the small bottles and immediately opening and downing one in a single gulp, feeling this is what the host would do in this kind of situation.

Almost instantly he feels better. Breathing no longer hurt, his arm stopped feeling wonky and his body was refilled with energy and power.

If he were John Watson, he'd say he feels like a "newborn man".

But he's not, so he will say and think no such thing.

"Where are all your soldiers?" He asked as he wondered about it for quite a while now.

Surely there must be more of them.

"At the forward camp, or fighting. We are on our own, for now."

'Lovely.' Mycroft thought, nodding. 'Just... perfect.'

Minutes after that they were running across the frozen river. Well... Cassandra was running, Mycroft just awkwardly slid/walked over the ice praying to himself that he wouldn't fall over and land on his behind in front of this woman.

As they traversed the water they ran into a corpse, which the hidden God gladly looted (it's not like the poor lady will need these things, anyhow) gaining a helmet (which smelled quite awfully) and a bit of money.

Cassandra then decided to make them turn to the right and up a small hill where they encountered (surprise surprise) more corpses. Which Mycroft looted as well, getting armed with more money and a sword he will most likely never use.

Along the way he also noticed a small plant, which his host knows to be Elfroot, and a bit of Iron for… future purposes.

(He has no idea why he needs this)

They near a crest where they're confronted by three shades.

"There! Watch out!" Cassandra calls out while rushing over to confront the demons. "If we flank them, we may gain an advantage."

'That would be a good strategy if both of us were soldiers.' Mycroft thought as he ran along with the back-haired woman. 'Which I'm not!'

But, alas they do, in fact, manage to kill the newfound enemies without much bloodshed.

They run some more and finally reach a point where they could see stairs.

Before they can reach them though, more demons show up in the form of shades and wraiths, green human spirits that leash out at anyone that come close.

"Up on the hill! It attacks from a distance!" The Seeker called out before rushing to attack the demons.

'Good to know.' Mycroft thought sarcastically. 'Let me make use of that information with my close-range weapon!'

After taking care of those demons (this was starting to seem repetitive) they run up the stairs previously blocked by the demons.

"We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting." Cassandra mentioned of handedly as he matched his speed with hers.

"Who's fighting?" Mycroft decided to ask the obvious question.

"You'll see soon. We must help them."

'Well…' the red-haired man huffed. 'Isn't that informative.'

They jump down off a stone wall, approach the first rift amidst the burning rubble, and join two people Mycroft never met before and a couple of soldiers in fighting demons.

With their joined strength the small group swiftly takes care of the demons.

"Quickly, before more come through!" Someone calls out.

But, before Mycroft could lean on his knees and take a breather, a bald elf suddenly grabbed his left hand and pointed it at the rift.

The mark flares, only this time it didn't hurt, and a long green line appeared from it leading to the rift, somehow weaving the rift closed like a needle and a thread.

After that's done, Mycroft pulled his hand back and stared at it.

'So… this is how I close the rifts.' He thought to himself. 'Neat.'

That didn't explain how this elf knew it could do that, however.

"What did you do?" The red-haired man asked, looking at the bald elf suspiciously, feeling as if he knew him from somewhere but couldn't exactly place his face.

"I did nothing. The credit is yours." Came the response.

'Answering a question with a non-answer.' Mycroft thought, frowning. 'Talking to this one will be oh so informative.'

"At least this is good for something." He mumbled to no one in particular, wriggling it a bit to get rid of the off sensation that closing the rift left in its wake.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." The unnamed elf said, making Mycroft look at him again. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."

'You seem to know a bit too much about this whole situation, my good fellow.' The red-haired man thought watching the elf through a growingly suspicious lense. 'Something tells me you are more than meets the eye.'

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra's voice pulled him out of thought.

"Possibly." the elf responded before turning to look at Mycroft. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

At that moment something in his mind clicked and he finally put all the pieces together.

'By the stars in the solar system, he did not.' Mycroft thought, his brow furrowing. 'He did not just-I better be wrong and this better not be who I think this is.'

"Good to know!" Another voice said, one that sounded husky thought pleasant to the ear, making the red-haired man turn and look at the owner, who turned out to be a dwarf dressed in brown clothes and carrying a pretty advanced crossbow. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

This dwarf had a snarky attitude and seemed to be just as unhappy with the current situation as Mycroft was.

He decided he likes him.

The dwarf walks over, presumably to introduce himself.

"Varric Tethras" He said, holding out a gloved hand which Mycroft shook. "Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." Varric then winked at Cassandra who scowled.

"Mycroft Trevelyan." The hidden God responded, deciding to mix both his English name and the one of his host.

"Nice. Pleased to meet you, Trevelyan."

The red-haired man nodded.

"Are you with the Chantry, or…?" He asked nodding towards the angry Seeker.

The bald elf beside him chuckled.

"Was that a serious question?"

"Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you." Varric responded with a shrug.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary." Cassandra added in a grumpy voice, crossing her arms over her metal-clad chest.

"Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events." The dwarf responded gesturing to all the corpses that had arrows sticking out of them.

Mycroft decided to break into this conversation before the two end up in an angry spat.

"That's… a nice crossbow you have there." He pointed at the strangely advanced contraption that was strapped to the dwarf's back.

"Ah, isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together." Varric responded petting the weapon lovingly.

"You named your crossbow Bianca?"

This world was getting stranger and stranger by the second.

"Of course. And she'll be great company in the valley."

So he can now add a crossbow named Bianca to the line of strange characters he met during his stay.

How… jovial.

"Absolutely not." Cassandra instantly disapproves of that statement. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" The dwarf wasn't having any of it, it seemed. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me."

In response Cassandra made a disgusted noise and didn't bother commenting further.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." The bald elf stepped forward. "I'm pleased to see you still live."

'You wouldn't be so pleased if you had so much as an inkling of an idea of who I really am.' Mycroft thought bitterly as he shook the cold hand. 'But, this is a conversation saved for later more private times, I'll play along… for now.'

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric cut in.


"You seem to know a great deal about it all." Mycroft asked the elf. 'And I so do wish to know how you're going to hide your obvious connection to it.'

Surprisingly, it was not Solas who answered, but Cassandra.

"Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters."

Of course he is.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." Solas added. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin."

Oh you sneaky sneaky bastard.

"And what will you do once this is all over?"

Yes, Solas. Whatever will you do once your mess is fixed?
"One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not."

The one in power will punish you accordingly, don't you worry about that.

Solas then turned to the black seeker. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen." He then looks Mycroft up and down. "Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

I do not recall raising you to be a liar.

"Understood." The dark haired woman responded curtly. "We must get to the forward camp quickly."

"Well, Bianca's excited!" Varric popped in patting his crossbow.

"This way, down the bank. The road ahead is blocked." Cassandra continued as if the dwarf hadn't said anything.

"We must move quickly." Solas decided to state that obvious, much to Mycroft's disapproval.

'You don't say.' The red haired man managed to think before he and his newfound... friends/captors/inmates started the climb down the rubble towards the valley.