The rest of their journey to Crestwood passed without incident. A couple of rifts on the way but nothing too difficult between the lot of them.
Holli kept to herself for the most part, still a little unnerved by the fight the other day. She wasn't sure why it affected her so much. She had seen dead children before, back at the Crossroads months ago. It hadn't been any easier to see it now, but it hadn't come with the same vomit-inducing shock. How close she had been to the fight itself, maybe? After being dragged across the ground by her hair, her scalp had throbbed painfully for a couple of hours. Or maybe it was how now that she had the power and the training to help, she hadn't been able to. She had let the others fight for her once again. Maybe she was just a coward.
A bowl of stew appeared before her and snapped her out of her daze, she softly thanked Solas.
The elf settled down on the ground beside her, eyeing her curiously.
"What is it?" He finally asked.
"What is what?" She asked back.
"You've been more withdrawn than usual. It is obvious something is bothering you. I'd hoped you'd bring it up in time, but clearly not."
Holli looked around to make sure no one else was listening. She didn't want to talk about it, but Solas did have a way of making her feel better about things most of the time.
"That fight? Not far out of Skyhold?"
He nodded. "What of it?"
"You've been training me to fight, and when it came time to, I just... didn't. I'm sorry."
"I did not train you to join us, Holli. I trained you so you would be able to defend yourself should we not be there, to give yourself a better chance. And your training is far from complete. No one expects you to suddenly charge into battle alongside us. You're being too hard on yourself."
She wasn't sure she believed that last part.
"Besides, making the injured a priority isn't a bad thing. But a bit more awareness during a battle is definitely called for. And you managed just fine against the demons we encountered at those rifts."
"I couldn't... bring myself to direct my magic at people. I know they were bad, I just..."
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "That is understandable. The only time you have has been when your life was directly threatened. And you have far more control now. It may not always react on its own to save you, nor is that something you should rely on. Truly, Holli, I'm not trying to turn you into a battlemage. I just want you to be able to defend yourself."
"Do you think I could be a battlemage if I wanted?"
"If you wanted. I'm just not sure you'd want to. You're a natural healer; hurting people—killing them—isn't easy on the best of us. I suspect it's much harder for someone who wants to help and heal."
She nodded. "I don't think I like fighting."
"And so long as I'm around, I'll try to make sure you don't have to," he assured her.
"Can I help?" Cole asked, suddenly sitting cross legged behind them.
Had he always been there and just suddenly made himself visible, or did he only just materialise?
"How much did you hear?" Holli asked.
"All of it. You don't have to fight. We can fight. And you can heal. There are more fighters than healers and people like being alive and unhurt."
Holli tried to fight down the amused smile but it was a bit of a losing battle. Yes, most people did like being alive and unhurt.
"Okay. Thanks, Cole. Thanks, Solas."
-
When they arrived in Crestwood, it was a dark and rainy evening. Not ideal. Scout Harding was already there along with a few other Inquisition members.
"Inquisitor, Lady Herald, good to see you both safe," she greeted.
Holli gave a small smile and a wave.
"Scout Harding, right?" Hawke asked.
The dwarf nodded.
"We've got trouble ahead," Harding told them, nodding in the direction of the stone wall over looking a vast lake.
Across the dark waters they could see the bright green glow of a rift. Under the water. Mother fucker...
"Crestwood was the site of a flood ten years ago during the Blight," Harding explained. "It's not the only rift in the area, but after it appeared, corpses started walking out of the lake."
"Dammit," Hawke muttered. "We'll have to fight through them to get to Stroud's cave. Have any undead attacked the camp?"
"We've had a few shamblers, but most head towards the village below. Maybe someone in Crestwood can tell you how to get to the rift in the lake. Maker knows they'll want help. Good luck, and please be safe."
The group started to make their way around to the village, all the while one eye kept on that ominous glow in the distance.
"There must be a way to get to the rift in the lake," Hawke mused.
"Maybe the locals will lend us a boat," Varric said.
"I'm guessing wet suits and oxygen tanks aren't a thing here?" Holli asked.
"Never heard of them," Hawke said, looking back at her. "You know, when they told me, I wasn't sure about this other world story. Seemed a bit ridiculous really. But the more time I spend around you, the more I'm starting to believe it."
Holli pursed her lips and gave him a thumbs up, not sure what to do with that.
"What's your world like?"
"Shitty. Our planet is dying, and the people killing it don't care as long as they keep getting richer. The worlds richest one per cent own more wealth than ninety five percent of the worlds population combined. But technologically, medically, hygeinically - way better than this place. We don't have magic though. Or elves."
"What about dwarves?" Hawke asked.
"Sort of?"
"What does that mean?"
"They're not like the dwarves here; it's not a race. They're just born out of regular people; it's just called dwarfism—skeletal dysplasia—and it's a thing that can just... happen."
"It's a deformity?" Hawke asked, a mix of surprise and amusement as he shot a look at Varric.
"Laugh it up," Varric said with a roll of his eyes.
"I don't think we're allowed to call it a deformity," Holli told him.
Their conversation came to a halt as they topped the rise, finding rotted corpses attacking some soldiers. The warriors were holding their own, and when Hawke and the others joined in, they made short work of the creatures.
Hawke approached the two men in matching armour.
"What are Grey Wardens doing in Crestwood?" Hawke asked.
"A Warden named Stroud is wanted for questioning," one of them replied. "We heard he'd passed through here, but the villagers knew nothing. They have troubles enough."
"What do you know about this rogue Warden?" Holli could admit Hawke did a good job faking concern at the prospect of a rogue warden.
"Warden-Commander Clarel ordered his capture. I can say no more than that. I hope Ser Stroud comes with us peacefully. I trained under him for a time. He's a good man, I'm sure of that."
Hawke nodded. "Well, we won't keep you."
They bid each other goodbye, and their group carried on to the village. When they reached the gates, they were closed as undead were attacking it. Bodies were scattered across the area, some fresh, others obviously what was left of the attacking undead.
"Holli, find any survivors about here and help them," Hawke told her.
Holli nodded, a little glad she wasn't being told to just stay back and do nothing. While the others charged in, Cole stayed beside her.
"Aren't you going with them?" She asked.
He shook his head, his wide brimmed hat keeping his face out of the rain. She was a little jealous. But she didn't have the bone structure for hats like that. Shaking off the absurd thought, she started looking for anyone who might still be alive. Cole kept close, defending her when need be. She managed to find a few people who weren't dead. Most of them were unconscious though, and healing them didn't automatically wake them. Those conscious did help keep their compatriots safe while she kept on healing. She liked how they just... accepted they were well enough to get back to it and then got stuck in either fighting or helping. There had been a couple of exclamations of 'the Herald of Andraste!' but beyond that, they were mostly quiet, just doing what needed to be done.
When things went quiet, the gates were opened, and they were let inside. Soldiers came out to gather their dead and seek out more wounded, but Hawke called Holli to his side.
"You can help the rest later; stay close for now," he told her.
Holli nodded, hesitantly looking back at the people left behind. She hoped she'd already saved those who could be saved.
The villagers directed them up to the mayor who was taking shelter from both the rain and the undead in his home.
"Who are you?" He demanded as Hawke opened the door and walked right in. When he saw Holli's hand his eyes widened. "The Herald of Andraste..." Then he looked to Hawke. "You must be the Inquisitor!" He hurriedly bowed. "Mayor Dedrick of Crestwood village. At your service, despite everything. Are you... here to stop the undead?"
"The undead are appearing because of a rift in the Fade, in the lake. How can I get to it?" Hawke asked.
"The light in the lake? It's coming from the caves below Old Crestwood. Darkspawn flooded it ten years ago during the Blight. It wiped out the village, killing the refugees we took in."
"I saw a dam. If we use it to drain the lake, I can get this one to that Fade rift," Hawke said.
"Drain the- There must be some other way!" He protested.
"Do you want that rift closed or not?" Hawke sighed.
The mayor seemed hesitant. "You'd have to evict the bandits in the old fort to use the dam. I can't ask you to risk your life, or that of a childs."
Holli shot him a look for that. She was fifteen! Probably sixteen by now. For fucks sake.
"I'll leave her here to heal your wounded while we deal with the bandits," Hawke told him.
"I suppose it must be done," the mayor said, resigned.
Holli would have thought he'd be more eager to have this resolved.
They left the mans house and Hawke started issuing orders. "All right, Holli you'll stay here and heal those in need. But don't push yourself too far, we're going to need you for the rift. Blackwall, Cole, and Solas, stay with her. There might be another wave of undead as well. We'll come back for you once the lake is drained."
They nodded, their now two groups splitting up to take care of things.