It was different than it had been before: it came on slowly, distant through a fog, a song that would hum in his ear every so often like a passing insect. It was as if spirits were gathering, pressing close to a Veil that had worn thin...
Only it wasn't. The song drifted by, then departed, shifting in and out like a tide. Meanwhile, people kept getting sick. Cole did what he could, drifting through the healing tents and offering a cold cloth here, a sip of water there, filling in the gaps of care to make sure the ill were as comfortable as they could be.
Until there were too many of them. Until he couldn't set foot near the tents without feeling the fever flare across his skin, or a sympathetic lurch in his stomach. Even if he could allow himself to be pulled forward despite that (it was only their pain he was feeling; he couldn't fall ill himself... at least, he didn't think so), the experience became particularly disturbing when he moved too close to someone whose eyes were closed, skittering behind the lids.
That was when he could hear their dreams.
[Ariadne]
Ariadne would come across him in one of the tents, kneeling at the side of one of the sleeping ill, holding a cold cloth to their forehead. He was rocking slightly, gently, back and forth, a tree swaying in the breeze, and muttering urgently under his breath:
"Climb the cliff, carry the water, don't spill a drop. Must be careful, must keep moving. See the sun breaking over the edge, oh — not much further, now..."
[River]
The swirl of spirits around River was louder than the rest. It always had been: only now, they were more like a chattering whirlwind, spinning around her and cooing and trying to press against her mind. They were so loud, Cole didn't see how she could keep from getting lost in the Fade — even if it was mostly his own fear that made him raise his voice when he approached.
"Leave her alone!" he tried to command them, even drawing his dagger — but they paid him no mind.
[Solas]
There was only so long he could stand it before he had to peel himself away from all of them: still in a trance, his feet carrying him (it seemed) separate from any conscious thought. Nothing but the instinct to move away, to be somewhere else.
The fog and the fever draw back, leaving a cold realization: he couldn't do anything more for them.
He couldn't simply go off and be by himself. He needed someone to help him make sense of this. So he followed the sense of still, quiet waters, until he found Solas, appearing crouched at his side.
"Drifting through dreams, asleep and awake. Glittering glimmer in the silence, in the heat, hush, listen but don't try to touch. They won't hear you... I heard the spirits speaking, like they do. I couldn't make it stop."
Closed - Multiple
Only it wasn't. The song drifted by, then departed, shifting in and out like a tide. Meanwhile, people kept getting sick. Cole did what he could, drifting through the healing tents and offering a cold cloth here, a sip of water there, filling in the gaps of care to make sure the ill were as comfortable as they could be.
Until there were too many of them. Until he couldn't set foot near the tents without feeling the fever flare across his skin, or a sympathetic lurch in his stomach. Even if he could allow himself to be pulled forward despite that (it was only their pain he was feeling; he couldn't fall ill himself... at least, he didn't think so), the experience became particularly disturbing when he moved too close to someone whose eyes were closed, skittering behind the lids.
That was when he could hear their dreams.
[Ariadne]
Ariadne would come across him in one of the tents, kneeling at the side of one of the sleeping ill, holding a cold cloth to their forehead. He was rocking slightly, gently, back and forth, a tree swaying in the breeze, and muttering urgently under his breath:
"Climb the cliff, carry the water, don't spill a drop. Must be careful, must keep moving. See the sun breaking over the edge, oh — not much further, now..."
[River]
The swirl of spirits around River was louder than the rest. It always had been: only now, they were more like a chattering whirlwind, spinning around her and cooing and trying to press against her mind. They were so loud, Cole didn't see how she could keep from getting lost in the Fade — even if it was mostly his own fear that made him raise his voice when he approached.
"Leave her alone!" he tried to command them, even drawing his dagger — but they paid him no mind.
[Solas]
There was only so long he could stand it before he had to peel himself away from all of them: still in a trance, his feet carrying him (it seemed) separate from any conscious thought. Nothing but the instinct to move away, to be somewhere else.
The fog and the fever draw back, leaving a cold realization: he couldn't do anything more for them.
He couldn't simply go off and be by himself. He needed someone to help him make sense of this. So he followed the sense of still, quiet waters, until he found Solas, appearing crouched at his side.
"Drifting through dreams, asleep and awake. Glittering glimmer in the silence, in the heat, hush, listen but don't try to touch. They won't hear you... I heard the spirits speaking, like they do. I couldn't make it stop."