Author's Note: Thank you so much for checking out this story! I hope that you enjoy it.

This is a rewrite of another fic of mine, called Faith From Ashes, one that I'd been working on for a long time and ultimately decided I wasn't happy with. So, am experimenting with this, and will probably be tweaking and tampering with it if you would be so kind as to leave feedback. Thank you, and enjoy the story.


The morning dawned cold and clear, a hint of a summer's breeze upon the air. Marilina Amell and her mother Revka strode into the markets together, hand in hand.

Mara went from stall to stall, feeling around at the different dresses and outfits of Hightown fashion, quickly finding and picking up one that shimmered and sparkled when the sun touched it. "Momma!" She let out a cry, smiling as her tiny limbs trembled. "This one feel so pretty! Is it pretty?"

Mara was blind, as she had always been since birth, but it didn't do much it dampen her childish enthusiasm for life. She still smiled and played as her friends did, constantly asking what things looked like to other people, always with her nose in her books that she read with her hands. It was enough to bring a joyous smile to Revka's face, to see her daughter able to live even like this.

But today wasn't a day to be smiling.

"It'd look cute on you." Her mother laughed nervously, reaching out a hand to feel the blue fabric flowing smooth and soft. She looked around, her hands wringed together by her waist until her fingers ached, as her eyes darted around the area. In the distance, a man in heavy platemail stood, staring at her. He nodded solemnly at her, and she bowed her head in response. This was happening. This was how it was going to end.

Mara would hate her for the rest of her life for this.

"Momma?" Mara tugged on her sleeve, and Revka looked down at her, swallowing thickly when she saw the innocence in her daughter's dull, unfocused blue eyes, glinting soft and innocent where the sun glimpsed their surface. "Are you okay?"

Revka smiled and nodded. Oh, her sweet little child. So young, and yet so compassionate and loving to everyone and everything. If only she could understand what was about to happen. Then maybe, just maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

She knelt down beside her daughter, firmly placing a hand on either of her shoulders and meeting her eyes, tears welling in Revka's. "Listen to me, little sweetheart. You are my special little girl, and you were born to do great things. I love you with all my heart. There are... there are going to be some thi... things that are going to happen in the next few days. Things that are going to be difficult, things that you're not going to understand. I just want you to know that, no matter how it may look, no matter how you may feel, I only had you in my heart and that you mother loves you and always will."

"Momma?" Mara asked, quirking her head to the side as her voice quivered. Something was wrong,. But… her mother would protect her. Surely? "What's wrong? What's happening?" And as she spoke, more of those men in armour approached. There were a dozen, two dozen of them, all set with grim, expressionless faces. Mara could hear them, their metallic footsteps sounding so different from everyone else's, and looked around at all of them. Revka closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, and hugged her daughter one last time, kissing her again and again.

Mara's fingers clawed on her mom's cloak, and her eyes widened. "Mommy! Mommy!" Each cry pierced Revka's heart, and each whimper was like a weight pulling at her chest. She couldn't breathe. Those huge blue eyes... all she could see was ger huge blue eyes, her daughter's pale face.

One of the templars yanked Mara's hand away, and the girl's wails rose in pitch. "Mommy! Please! I'll be good! Mommy! I'll be good!" Revka turned away. She couldn't look. She couldn't. A dry sob caught in her throat as her heart shattered, broken.

Revka leaned against the side of one of the buildings closest to her. Her shoulders slumped. Those huge blue eyes that always reminded her of the sea, that innocent, loving little gaze. This hurt so much.

She had given her daughter one last chance at life. Now it was up to her to do something with it.


Twelve Years Later

Mara awoke to find herself in hell.

It was damp here, and she could tell it was dark even without sight. It smelled of old rags and mould. This was a place where they threw flesh to decay, along with the minds that belonged to them. An empty void where inconveniences were cast to, where mages were cast away because of the fear that the rest of the world held towards her kind.

A key turned it's way in the door, and she could hear footsteps behind her. Not heavy and metallic, and only one person ever came this early in the day.

"You're early." She grumbled, sitting up and pulling her blindfold on. Her eyes shamed her deeply, and she refused to show them to anyone. From what she had heard, they were dull, glazed over, and lazy, staring in different directions. She would never again suffer a comment on how uncanny they were, on how awful they looked. Not to mention how much the light ached when it shone on them without wearing it.

"You don't know what time it is." Irving replied, sitting on the bed next to her.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" She had slept in her clothes, partially because it was hard to change, and mostly because she was beyond caring. She was dead anyway, so long as she stayed here. What did it matter what she looked like?

"More nightmares?" Irving asked tentatively after a moment, unsure of himself. He cared about Mara, he did, but she had put him in an impossible position. If she stayed like this, withdrawn and catatonic towards the rest of the world…

Mara hissed an angry sigh, and rolled over, facing at him. She could hear his breathing, old and haggard, making this rattling noise… like there was nothing left inside of him. "Stop." She shook her head. "Just stop."

"E-excuse me?" Irving moved his head back a little, taken aback by that.

"Drop the concerned act for ten seconds, okay?" She sat up on one arm, trying her best to meet where his face would be. There was only one way this was going to end, and she accepted that. All that she wanted from him was an ounce of honesty, a second where he wasn't lying to her in one way or another. "Stop acting like this is all for my benefit. You… you keep acting like all of this is about me, about getting me healthy. But it's not. It's about you and your Templars. Just say it. That's all I want. Just tell me that you don't give a shit about me. Okay? That's all I want. Is to hear you tell me the truth." She didn't raise her voice, not really, but rather it took on a desperate, shaken tone that demanded an answer.

Irving was silent a moment, then shook his head a little. "They're going to kill you." Mara sighed again, and rolled back over. Even after all this, she was still force fed this perpetual lie. That The Circle was for her benefit.

"Then just let me die."