I rise from my scars. nothing hurts me now.
There is something in the woman’s brokenness that calls to something within Leliana.
It is a buried thing, strange and quiet, that is nestled in her breast. Something that cries quietly in the middle of the night as she stands amongst the flowers blooming in the Tephran winter. Something that is an echo of years past, of the hurt and heartache that has so consistently plagued her. The her that came before. The her that has since been remade, reshaped and reborn into something terrifying and alone.
Still, it is a thing that she can still feel and she responds to the call, to the gentle pull in her belly that takes her to the beach where the lava meets the seawater. The woman that stands there—upright and strong despite the ache in her eyes—is both what she expected and not. In some ways, Leliana feels like she is looking into a mirror of her past and it makes a strange twisting in her heart that she cannot name.
Without a word, she moves forward, stepping through the magma without pause, letting the heat of it rise and flow around her crimson feathered legs and feeling nothing. She merely continues forward, stepping out further into the beach and feeling the heat splatter out and sizzle into the sand.
Her eyes glow golden and orange today, reflecting the mouth of the behemoth volcano behind her, and her face is impassive but not unkind. There is a warmth that still lights her features from within, a warmth that has blossomed into rage and a thirst for justice and an inexplicable need to protect.
“Hello,” she says softly, her voice carrying further than its quietness should normal allow. “My name is Leliana.” She glances away at the rest of the land for a second before bringing her attention to the woman in the water. She studies her quietly, pupiless eyes quiet and thoughtful, but says nothing more.