Okay, so I promise I'm gonna update Down Came Heaven real soon. I promise guys. Anyway, this is going to be part of a mini-series of short stories involving what-ifs and side characters in the Inquisition.

Also, I don't own anything accept my character.

Full Summary:

Karliah was sentenced to the Rite of Tranquility after defending herself against a templar. Years later she's joined the Mage Rebellion, right hand to Fiona the Grand Enchanter, leader of her own faction of mages, and a feared enemy of the Order. Joining the Inquisition gave the mages the leverage to press for permanent freedom, and Karliah was in full support of it. There was one hitch - the Templars. If it wasn't bad enough that Karliah loathed those silver tanks, she had a secret that could get her killed

She was possessed by a spirit.

CullenXOC rivalmance, M!Trevelyan friendship


"Templars!"

A young apprentice yelled as he ran back to camp, fear written across his face. He was young, barely a teenager, with no staff or robes. Most of them were dressed like farmers, having scavenged clothing from the vacant villages and farmhouses that were the result of the Mage-Templar war. It was easier to pass as civilians, despite the danger of bandits and rogue mages/templars.

Karliah, however, had kept her battlemage robes on, quickly reaching for her staff and standing to approach the boy. "How many and how far from here?" She demanded.

"Not far!" The boy panted as he slowed to a stop in front of her. "I spotted them at the base of this mountain. They were heading this way!"

There were several others that still had their robes and staffs, mostly older enchanters that acted as the guardians of this small group of mage refugees she had gathered. They all stood up and began ushering the younger and inexperienced mages further into the cavern they were holed up in, while a few others approached her, ready for battle. Karliah glanced at one of them Rosier, an enchanter from Ferelden and an expert on wards.

"You know what to do." Was all she told him as she approached the mouth of the cave, pulling up her hood to cover her face as she walked into the sunlight, followed by several others that had volunteered to fight. They felt their backs tingle as a ward went up behind them, just in case the Templars made it that far.

There were four enchanters accompanying her: Micah, a young but experienced force mage from the Free Marches, having escaped the horrors of Kirkwall's circle long before this blasted war. Shanelle, a dark-skinned beauty from Rivain that studied demons and blood magic. Orphin was a bit of a mystery, an older elven apostate that knew the Dalish keeper magic and had the ability to shapeshift. Hadir was a spirit healer, previously the First Enchanter to the Circle of Dumais, a small city in the Free Marches which had gone up in flames when the war first broke out. Only a small group of mages managed to escape their Circle before the Templars went on a killing spree.

They remained hidden in the mouth of the cave, hoping that the Templars would simply pass by without noticing them. But they were unsurprised when the Templars charged right at them, apparently already aware of their location.

'I knew we had stayed here too long.' Karliah thought as Micah created an abyss in the center of the Templars and dragged them into a pile.

Karliah cast a blizzard above them, momentarily freezing the men while Shanelle used blood magic to take control of several men. When the templars began thawing out, Shanelle had her thralls attack their comrades. Orphin summoned sharp, thorny roots to burst forth from the ground and strangle the templars caught in their hold, while Hadir cast a barrier over them to keep the templars from attacking them.

Between their combined attacks the rest of the templars died quickly, Micah already looting their bodies before the last of them had closed his eyes.

"They've got some supplies on them." Micah said as he stood up with his arms full of spare clothing, a flint, and some knives. "We can sell their valuables at the next village."

Karliah nodded, then turned to Hadir. "Go tell Rosier he can lower the ward, and prepare the others to travel. We can't stay here."

The former Fist Enchanter accepted her orders easily and walked back into the cavern, followed by Shanelle and Micah. Orphin remained, burning the bodies with a muttered prayer, and then Karliah used earth magic to open up crevices that swallowed what was left. That way the children would not see the carnage as they exited the cave.

"We can't keep this up." Orphin whispered to her, his eyes lined with age and stress. "We're too many, and not enough food. It's too easy for the Templars to find us."

"I won't stop." Karliah snapped as she kicked dirt over one of the raised mounds of earth that served as a templar grave. "I won't stop taking in mages in need, and I won't split us up. We are stronger together."

"Then what do you suggest?" The old elf raised his eyebrows.

"I suggest we start learning how to hunt and fish for ourselves." Karliah replied dryly as she turned toward the sound of hushed voices, gradually gaining volume as a crowd of mage refugees emerged from the cavern behind them. She could see the younger ones looking for signs of the battle, mesmerized by the blood on the ground.

"There's more caves to the west." One of the apprentices spoke up, his accent Ferelden. Liam was a native of the Hinterlands, lucky for them, and had been their guide to several of their hideaways for the past few months.

"Lead the way." Karliah nodded to him.


Karliah had never been the heroic type. Once she had been young and innocent, living a peaceful life in the Circle tower, eagerly learning about the Fade, the spirits, and playing with elemental magic. Coming from the slums of Ostwick, her earliest memories were only of hunger and sorrow. The food, shelter, and safety that the Circle had provided to her seemed like heaven at first. She never went hungry, she got to use her magic, and she was surrounded by others just like her. It seemed like paradise… until a templar attacked her.

Sometimes she still dreamed about it, his hands tearing at her robes, hot breath against her neck, the hand on her mouth muffling her screams. She had retaliated, defended herself, but still she was condemned by the Order.

They had imprisoned her and sentenced her to a fate worse than death. Karliah could still feel the burn of the brand on her forehead, her throat raw from screaming as hot iron was pressed down, her skin melting, sizzling, the smell of burned flesh in the air. She remembered the anger filling her up, her scream turning into a snarl of defiance, the burning of her face barely matching the fiery rage inside her.

Then she had been filled with emptiness, all light, sound, and emotion erased. After that, there was only silence, and it drove her mad, but there was nothing she could do to express her agony – the screams filled her throat, tears filled her eyes, but in the end, they were just figments of her imagination. She touched and felt nothing, listened but heard no song, she moved in slow motion. She watched the Templars taunt her but could not retaliate, could not even find the will to talk back. It was like being trapped behind glass, watching herself move and act without permission.

And then – Dawn.

Ever since she had been locked in the cells beneath the tower she had felt something else watching, movement in the corner of her eye, a whisper in the shadows. The night before the Rite she had felt is brush her in the Fade, a flash of emotion, something heated, passionate, angry.

Her first night as a Tranquil it was waiting for her when they returned her to her cell, and when it reached out to her, she felt it recoil at the nothingness inside her. The whispers turned to hisses and then it rushed towards her to hover in front of her. It flickered as it passed the torch, like light filtering through a prism, a body of smoke and shadow.

She felt it touch her brow, then cup her face with something that resembled hands. She looked up into, through, it but saw nothing substantial, the form in constant flux, changing too fast for her eyes to register a shape. She felt as it touched her, warmth, reality, felt more than she had in the past day and she wanted to cry in relief. There was a song, the hum of magic, distant, quiet, but growing in strength.

And then the spirit engulfed her, slowly tipping over and crashing down on her in a wave of something, not quite magic, not quite spirit. She felt every inch of her skin tingle as it rippled through her, into her, filling her up like water in an empty cup. The tears finally fell, her voice released a sharp laugh of disbelief.

She was alive again.

The presence was in her head now, the song pounding through her mind like the march of war drums, a soaring symphony, and magic hummed through her veins stronger than ever before. She could see not only the world in front of her, but also the Fade overlapping it, she saw the pulse of the veil on every inch of the room before her, even beyond that.

A spirit had possessed her. She never thought she would be grateful for such a thing.

The door to the dungeon jangled, and Karliah sucked in a breath. What to do now? She couldn't hide the change forever, and when they realized that the Rite had been broken they would kill her!

She felt the spirit inside her push. It wanted to leave. Beyond the cell, beyond the tower. Escape. Escape. Escape.

"Hehe, all Tranquil now, little girl."

Oh god please no. It was him. No, no, no, no!

The templar leered at her with a sickening expression, his eyes roving up and down her body so maliciously that her body shivered, like there were worms squirming beneath her skin.

Him. She felt the spirit swell inside her, filling with anger and outrage. Monster. It hissed.

"Ye can't stop me now. Can't even protest, right? You have to do as I say." The templar chuckled as he approached her cell, peering at her through the shadows.

"Hey… who are you?"

Her attention was drawn away from the spirit's odd reactions and she looked into his hungry eyes, his expression becoming confused.

"Didn't ye have brown hair yesterday? And look at yer eyes!"

Her eyes? Hair? What were they talking about? Karliah didn't have time to dwell on his confusion because the templar was reaching for his sword.

No! She felt a negative response echo through her body, and suddenly her limbs were moving without her consent. The spirit commandeered her body, launching her forward grabbing his face with her hand, magic pumping through her arm, and suddenly he was screeching and reeling away from her, the right side of his face nearly burned off.

Die. The spirit was hissing and spitting inside her, filled with so much hatred that she could feel it changing, the warmth of its presence turning to a molten heat, lighting her veins with fire.

'No!' She thought pulling it back, struggling to control it. She remembered her lessons on spirits that left the Fade. Even the good ones were easily corrupted by this world, especially by negative emotions and events.

Her hatred and fear of the templar was driving the spirit inside her crazy, turning him into a demon! She had to stop it!

"You… What the fuck did you do?!" The templar growled as he jumped to his feet and swung his blade at her.

The spirit forced her to duck and roll away, her movements hampered by her robes. Why.

She couldn't let the spirit kill him (as much as she'd love to). She didn't know what exactly it was a spirit of, but she knew that such a negative act could push the spirit over the edge and create a demon. She was not becoming an abomination after breaking her Tranquility!

The templar came at her again, and this time Karliah ducked and somehow managed to trip him, sending him sprawling to the ground. She pounced just as he rolled over, and slammed his head back into the ground, once, twice, Kill him!

'No!' She screamed, yanking back control of her body and launching herself off of the man. She wrapped her arms around her torso, as if that would somehow keep her body still, trembling as she fought for control in her head.

Why.

'Because you will turn into a demon!' She yelled back at it. 'It's for your own good!'

She felt the spirit pause.

Confusion, realization, surprise. They human cared for it? It was not even alive. But the human was right. It had come to help. Demons did not help.

A wave of shame swept through her; the spirit was apologizing. Then she felt it turn its attention to the door.

Go.

Karliah was shaking as she stepped over the unconscious templar and went to the door, poking her out to check for guards. There were none. The templar probably sent them away so that no one would hear anything.

She shivered at the thought.

The spirit flashed images in her mind, a tunnel, dark, damp, secret. She followed his directions and made her way towards the basement, using a freezing spell to smash the old, brittle lock on the door. She slipped through and made her way through the dark to the back of the room, cursing under her breath as she tripped over various boxes and slammed her shin into a table or something. She nearly smacked her face into the back wall, feeling her way across it until she felt a small, narrow door. It was closed, locked, but the wood was old and rotted, and it gave easily when she slammed her shoulder into it.

She cupped her hand and called a small ball of flame to life, glancing back into the dark doorway before looking ahead. The tunnel was natural, all rock and mud, water dripping somewhere, the air moist but stale.

Freedom.


Karliah escaped the city and made her way through the Free Marches, avoiding the cities and learning to live on her own. With the spirit inside her, her magic had doubled in strength and mana, and she eventually learned that she did not even need a staff to perform basic magic. It had not taken her long to realize that her contact with the spirit had not only changed her internally, but physically as well. A few days on the road she had stumbled upon a lake and stared at her reflecting, not recognizing the woman that looked back at her, and then disbelieving what she saw.

Once, Karliah had been a rather plain girl – curly brown hair, brown eyes. She was pretty, she supposed, with fine bone structure, full lips, and a friendly face. But now, she did not even look real. Her hair had turned white, shimmering with pale gold in the sunlight, and her eyes had lost all color and looked like liquid silver, practically glowing against her tanned skin. And with the piercing, distrustful expression that now sat permanently on her face she seemed inhuman.

There was not a templar in the world that would not look at her and know something was wrong.

She spent two years traveling and meditating, coming to terms with the spirit lodged permanently in her head and working on finding a balance between herself and her guest. It had not been easy – she had to learn how to control her magic all over again, and learn an entirely different kind of spirit magic than what was traditionally taught in the Circles.

She named it Dawn – the light in her darkness, her new beginning.

Hosting a spirit meant that the Fade was much more physical now, as real as the waking world in her dreams, and still tangible when she was awake. Dawn was always there to greet her in the Fade, waiting for her the moment she closed her eyes. Dawn was always touching her in the Fade, claiming ownership, snarling at demons that approached her. Karliah had never slept so easily, knowing that she no longer had to worry about them.

In the Fade, Dawn took the form of a small dragon, which probably had something to do with her fascination with the creatures since she was little. She remembered reading about the different species in the library, sketching their forms onto her homework, dreaming about joining the University of Orlais and becoming a zoologist – a dream that was quickly shattered. She wondered why Dawn would pick up on that, wondered what its true nature was. Even today, she did not know.

She eventually fell in with the mage underground, even before some idiot blew up a Chantry. While she was still in the Free Marches she had joined the mage underground and helped children and abused mages escape their fates, sometimes taking a few of the untrained under her wing to teach them control and basic spells before sending them off into the world. She worked side-jobs with various mercenary companies to earn a fair amount of coin and keeping her skills up to par, often giving the money to runaway mages so that they had a head start wherever they were going.

Karliah had arrived in Ferelden just as word of what happened in Kirkwall had reached its shores. She had been horrified and extremely angry. That damn idiot had set them back years! No one was going to show them mercy now. What if they started calling for the annulment of all the Circles? There was nowhere for those mages to run!

He had single-handedly destroyed thousands of lives and condemned many more.

When the Mage-Templar War broke out, Karliah had made her way to Lake Calenhad just in time to see the tower in flames and abandoned. There were still mages loitering about, however, hiding in the countryside from templar hunters. It started out as an offer to help, an offer to band together for protection, and word seemed to spread. More and more mages appeared, asking for the protection of the group of now-apostates.

She moved them away from the lake and up into the hills, taking in more mages as they went, even a few civilians. They fought off the Templars that managed to track them, killed the rogues when they came upon them, and defended what civilians they could. They scavenged supplies wherever they went, and set up semi-permanent bases in the cave systems of the Hinterlands.

Karliah had a strict rule in her group – no unnecessary violence. Nothing that would draw attention to the group of apostates. As much as she hated Templars, unnecessary violence would endanger the innocents in their group. Those that thirsted for war moved on to join the Rebellion.

Most of her group were children, unfortunately. Young mages that had nowhere to go when the towers fell, and had no way of defending themselves. She tried not to think about what had happened to those left behind.

Karliah was still teaching them how to hunt and fish. They had acquired several bows and fishing poles from abandoned homes, but arrows were harder to come by. Hunting with magic was hard to do without damaging the meat, but it was good for practicing aim and precision.

When word that the main force of the Rebellion had settled in Ferelden, Karliah was less-than-pleased. There were too many inexperienced among them, too many that had been cooped up in the towers for too long, too eager to see the world, too many that were bitter and angry and wanted to turn that rage upon innocent civilians.

Karliah and the members of her group which had been with her the longest, Orphin and Micah, had gone with her to their camp across the valley to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona. They had been reluctant to join the rebellion, preferring to protect their own than pick a fight with the Templars.

Karliah agreed to join them, but it was a loose alliance. They agreed to keep sending the children and the noncombatant mages to the mountains, a separate noncombatant group for the young and the frail to keep them out of the war, while Karliah and her few offensive mages would join the fight.

For months Karliah and her companions fought off the Templars, never really gaining ground, the lines between their factions going back and forth. One day the Templars held the high ground, the next day the mages did. One day the fort was theirs, and the next it was lost to them.

There was one positive side to it all – she got to kill Templars.

Whatever Dawn was, the spirit certainly enjoyed the thrill of battle. Karliah's veins hummed with magic, drawn from an impossible deep well of Fade-fed mana. The elements danced at her fingertips, blizzards roaring, fire blazing, earth rumbling, electricity cracking.

Karliah reveled in the screams of the Templars, remembered the look of greed, arrogance and pleasure on their faces whenever she had watched them abuse the mages, and smirked when they died at her hand.

Micah dragged their bodies through the air with a wave of his hand, smacking them against the rocks until they went limp. Shanelle made their blood boil and comrades turn on each other. Orphin would shift into a spider or bear or wolf and attack the Templars as they panicked at the sight of the unfamiliar magic. Hadir stood at the back and cast barrier and healing spells, while casting curses upon the Templars that weakened them or put them to sleep.

It was horrifying chaos, but there was something so satisfying about tearing your oldest enemy apart, limb from limb, every day and every night. Karliah smirked and Dawn hummed with happiness when they walked through the aftermath of a battle to see the ground littered with broken bodies and broken swords.

They had even earned a moniker – the White Witch and the Four Horsemen. Rather creative for the single-minded templars. The most feared team of templar-hunters in the Rebellion. They had killed more templars than the rest of the other mages combined, and could take out a single templar camp with only five of them. Karliah was the leader, famed for her distinctive white hair, and the rest where just as well known for their powerful magic and ruthless spellwork. Micah and Shanelle were especially bloodthirsty, usually only a whack on the head from Karliah's staff could get them to calm down from a battle frenzy.

A year passed in blood and fire and magic. Karliah and her companions were becoming frighteningly bored with how easy killing had become. They knew all the templar weaknesses now, where there was a chink in the armor, how to avoid magic dispersion, how to destroy their morale with a single blow. They were also sent to deal with mage rogues, especially those that targeted civilians and refugees that had nothing to do with the war.

Karliah had become Fiona's right hand, her closest confidant. They both wanted to put the safety of the mages first, both wanted to minimize civilian casualties, and both were against the war, despite leading it. Karliah was ruthless, calculating, her time as an apostate having taught her the harsh reality of survival. Fiona was strategic, determined, a former Grey Warden who had plenty of experience commanding a military force. Together they made a formidable team, analyzing templar formations and attacking them swiftly and efficiently. But they were still outnumbered by the Templars, and it was becoming harder and harder to hide the bases where the non-fighting mages were hidden.

Then the Conclave was announced.

"The Chantry wants to meet with us and the Templars? In the same room?" Karliah snorted in disbelief. "There will be a bloodbath for sure."

"The Templars have disregarded much of their duty to the Chantry," Fiona admitted as she looked over the thick vellum letter in her hands, a bright red wax seal and pretty ribbon dangling from one edge. Very official-looking. "But they would not ignore this."

"How did they even find out where to send the letter?" Karliah asked cautiously.

"A chantry cleric stopped one of our men and handed it to him." Fiona answered. "Told him to bring it to me."

Karliah chuckled darkly. "And he wasn't incinerated, frozen, or electrocuted? Lucky man."

"Take this seriously, Karliah." Fiona stood up and placed the letter on her table, her office space looking out of place in the large cavern they were hidden in. "This could actually be our answer."

Karliah's face was skeptical. "Do you really trust the Chantry? Of all people?"

"I trust the one who leads it." Fiona said. "Divine Justinia warned the clergy about the dissent of the Circles long before this war. She always preached about reform."

Karliah had not known that. Then again, she had never paid attention to the Chantry. As an apprentice in the tower, she had attended the services and said her prayers dutifully, but they were hollow words.

"But you're not actually going to go, are you?" Karliah asked the elven mage. "What if it's a trap? Or if you are attacked? We can't risk losing you."

"You are a capable leader." Fiona pointed out.

"Ha!" Karliah barked. "Fiona, you know that half of these mages don't trust me. They fear me, and my horsemen."

Fiona smothered a laugh at that. "Then I'll send you."

"No." Karliah growled, pointing to the bandages wrapped around her forehead and tugging on her white hair. "I'm possessed, remember? I ain't going anywhere near those Templars, especially with the Chantry nearby. They'd take one look at me and call for an Exalted March."

Well, she had a point. Fiona sighed. "Then who do you suggest?"

Karliah shrugged and crossed her arms as she leaned against the enchanter's desk.. "Anyone but me?"

Fiona sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. I'll speak to the other lieutenants."

"Good luck finding someone willing." Karliah snickered.

The Grand Enchanter rolled her eyes and shook her head at Karliah. "I received word this morning of templar patrols wandering too close to the western camp for comfort. If you're not going to help me here, then go take care of it."

Karliah muttered under her breath as she turned to look at an open note on the desk next to a map that was marked with her target. "Geez, slave driver."

"You could always go to the Conclave~" Fiona sang as she walked away.

"No."


The caverns that the Rebellion was holed up in were not too bad. The caves were wide and the ceiling stretched high enough that it was not claustrophobic. There were gaps above that allowed the sunlight to shine through and light up far more than torches could hope to accomplish. Off to the one side was a waterfall, sourced from groundwater and flowing into a small stream that eventually made its way to the river. She was resting on a bedroll beside one of the fires, leaning back on her arm while the other draped over the knee of her propped leg. She had been speaking with one of the other mages about a magical theory about object possession when they were interrupted by a stiff voice.

"Karliah."

The tanned Marcher looked up to see Fiona approach her with a dire expression. She held a letter in her hand, frayed at the edges, slightly stained by travel and dirt.

"Yes?" Karliah stood up immediately, eyes darting to the letter.

Fiona nodded her head in the direction of her tent, clearly indicating that they should speak alone. Karliah followed her through the flaps, the enchantress snapping her fingers to place a privacy ward around them, ensuring no one would listen in on their conversation.

"How far can you Fade-step?" She began the conversation, turning to face Karliah.

The witch shrugged. "I haven't really measured it before, but I can certainly go farther than the average mage, given my… circumstances." She pointed to her bandaged forehead. "Why? What has happened?"

"Another annulment."

Kalriah sucked in a sharp breath.

Fiona seemed to age ten years as she handed the letter to Karliah. The younger mage took the letter in hand and ran her eyes across the page, a sinking feeling in her gut. Dawn hissed in anger as the words filtered through her mind.

Grand Enchanter Fiona,

I pray that this letter reaches you soon. I do not know how much longer we can hold.

When the other Circles rose up, the Chantry sent Seekers across the bay from Ayesleigh to investigate. They found us mixing freely with our families, training female mages in the traditions of the seers, and denounced us as apostates.

They brought with them a small army of templars. We fought. And we might have won. But they invoked the Right of Annulment, with all the unrelenting brutality that allowed. All with magic are to be executed, from the youngest apprentice to the retired enchanters. They will burn our libraries, destroy our tower and all the priceless artifacts within. It will be a massacre.

Perhaps they thought we were spineless robes who could be intimidated with a little bloodshed. Before I was first enchanter, I was the daughter of Captain Revaud, of the Felicisima Armada. I know how to plan a battle. We of the Dairsmuid Circle wait now, behind barricades. When they break through, we will not die alone.

Fiona, send aid if you can. If not, do not forget the sins that occurred this day. The Chantry and their Templars will not be forgiven.

First Enchanter Rivella of Dairsmuid, 9:40 Dragon

Karliah looked back up at Fiona with a grim expression. "Is anything left of them?"

"I do not know." The enchantress shook her head sadly. "A letter from Rivain to Ferelden can take two weeks or more to deliver."

"You want me to go there and see for myself."

Fiona nodded. She knew that Karliah's spirit possession meant that she could fold the Fade and easily travel across half the country in one step. It would take a hell of a lot of lyrium, but she could be in Rivain in just a few days.

Dawn was still hissing and spitting in her head, Templars, traitors, protectors turned jailors, and now executioners. No matter what the priests say, they shall not be absolved of their sins! We shall burn them, Karliah, and cleanse the world of their stain.

Unconsciously, Karliah nodded in agreement. "I will go."


Lots of information in this chapter, sorry if it's confusing. Things will straighten out in the next few chapters.

Please review!