THE WILL OF THE MAKER'S BLOOD
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Chapter I: The World Set Ablaze
"My feet ache! How much longer are we going to be walking for?" A young woman with a fair complexion whined childishly to the poor elven servants plodding alongside her, sending them into a frenzy of apologies and scrambling for a solution before she began to screech at them. From behind her and seated atop a sturdy mount, a younger woman rolled her eyes blatantly at her cousin's petulant behavior. Leave it to Lady Iva Nicolosia Larissa Trevelyan-Bayart to whine about legitimately everything she could. The entire journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes was spent in one of two ways: utter, awkward silence between the Trevelyan clan or occupied by Iva's incessant whining in a pitch that rivaled the strength of a mabari's howl. "Kassie, oh Kassie!"
"What is it, Iva?" The younger Trevelyan barely restrained her irritation from tainting her tone in obvious venom, especially surrounding the undesired nickname given to her by the ditzy blonde she shared blood with. Unlike her uncle, Lord Florence Trevelyan and his family of frivolity, Lady Kassandra Divina Trevelyan regarded her status as youngest daughter of the current head of House Trevelyan with the utmost respect. Her respect in upholding the title spitefully contradicted her disdain of the mindset of noble privilege some of her family members preached as if it were a canticle from the Chant of Light. Kassandra watched rather unamused as servants halted the entire party's movements so that they could assist Iva back onto the very horse she complained about not only an hour before. Iva twirled a loose lock of her platinum hair around her index finger while a female servant fretted about her hair.
"Do you believe that we will encounter any attractive Templars while we are there?" A dreamy haze clouded over her eyes which prompted a disgusted scoff from Kassandra. Of all the idiotic thoughts currently running through her cousin's empty head, that one would take the cake as the vainest, she thought to herself in the most sardonic of manners. Kassandra nudged her horse ahead of Iva and her gaggle of tortured servants with a simple flick of the reigns; she had no patience for her cousin's typical antics and being around her for long enough had worn on her moderate reservoir of tolerance for such blatant stupidity. Iva however desired an answer of her cousin closest in age and of the same gender, so, she made one of her servants lead her horse with a training rope up against Kassandra's right side.
"Oh, come on now Kassie! You didn't answer my question." Kassandra praised the Maker and Andraste under her breath that a slick section of her darkened chestnut curls sheltered her right section of her face, from her forehead to the apple of her cheeks, from visibility as she rolled her eyes.
"We are heading towards a gathering of the Chantry to end a massive war between Templars and the Rebel Mages and the issue you are most concerned about is the possibility of attractive men? Have you lost your mind, dear Iva?" The last fragment of her calculated answer was pushed out through a grit jaw and tightly pursed lips. The distance between the Trevelyans and the Temple of Sacred Ashes was taunting her with how close she was to the end yet how far she still had to go. "Besides, don't you have a husband? I highly doubt that he would enjoy realizing that you somehow convinced to let you attend the Conclave unsupervised and that you spent your time flirting with other men instead of strengthening Trevelyan ties outside of the Free Marches." Kassandra stated monotonously as to not give anything away; years of politicking taught her how to play the Game in the viper's nest she called her home. Iva narrowed her eyes at Kassandra snidely when it finally dawned upon her the insult slyly masked through a flat yet civil demeanor.
"I would be strengthening relations with the Chantry by interacting with the Templars that are present at the Conclave. The Order is always clamoring for financial backing as well as political from those in the Chantry and the nobility. After those disgusting abominations known as the rebel apostate mages- or whatever they call themselves started the war, all of Thedas has been plunged into chaos at the expense of their 'freedom'." The mockery in Iva's voice towards mages was evident and Kassandra forced herself not to retort with the notion that mages are people and deserving of respect or that the Templars had equal culpability regarding the war erupting. Shocking allegations of abuse that filtered out of Circles was not a new concept, yet those problems were overlooked by the Chantry. The Grand Clerics feared mages, but fear breeds resentment and resentment breeds hate. Hate is what leads to wars and revolutions: the dark passion that grates on the foundations of compromise, respect, and peaceful co-existence until it crumbles into chaos and anarchy. But that was neither here nor there. An informed rebuttal would have no impact against Iva's close-minded, ignorant opinion regarding mages that a significant portion of Thedas wielded like a weapon of rhetoric to use against those with magical abilities.
"I would refrain with flirting with them then, if that is your plan. Men and women like the Templars have some level of self-respect and are comfortable in their piety." Kassandra flicked the reigns before dropping her bombshell comment. She deftly rode ahead of her family's party while ignoring the offended wails her cousin was making in the wake of her veiled insult and the remainder of her family awkwardly attempting to calm down Iva with little success. Each separate lineage of the Trevelyan house sent one representative from the line to negotiate at the Divine Conclave; most of them sending the youngest of each distinct line totaling to five in all. The remainder of her cousins, Adenet and Peter and Bastien, were not terrible company but rather dimwitted and crude for Kassandra's tastes. Maybe that thought made her elitist, but most people would agree that they would not care to be trapped with three sexist and immature men for the whole leg of the journey. It also didn't help their case that they whined almost as much as Iva did and treated Kassandra as if she was incapable of lifting a finger when she could easily disarm them in a swordfight under a minute. Most of her family was exemplary of the negative stereotypes crafted about the nobility by society: spoiled, entitled, and painfully superficial. The intelligent, selfless noble was a dying, rare breed of people.
"Oh, we have arrived!" Bastien shouted from the rear of the group and pointed unceremoniously towards the Temple which was now right within Kassandra's grasp. The winding path was lined with Templar Knights, likely recruits, and they directed delegations of nobility up to the Temple. As her foolhardy cousins waved to or flirted with the on-duty guards in Iva's case, Kassandra was amid brainstorming a plan to evade her irksome family members and secure alliances with any noble family that she convinced into speaking with her. A simple glance back revealed that her horse trotted ahead with enough distance between her and the remainder of the Trevelyan delegation for her to make an effortless getaway towards the other nobility. An elven boy skittishly approached her mount and made a silent gesture for the reigns, his head bowed and eyes averting Kassandra. She understood why the boy was frightened to approach her even though she in her heart knew that she was leagues from the snobbish demeanor of most nobles. She executed a swift dismount from the steed in a singular, fluid motion and smiled graciously at the elven boy when he dared to glance at her in the eye. The silent boy swallowed in awe that Kassandra treated him like he was a person and not like breathing filth; his stillness allowing the Trevelyan to stroke the horse's mane and muzzle for a moment. A deep breath and Kassandra was off into the crowd gathered in the Temple's courtyard. Her breath was easily seen and she instinctively pulled her green traveling coat taut against her torso; the wintry weather surrounding her was colder than she had ever experienced. The Free Marches tended to snow yet she rarely encountered the unforgiving element from the gilded cage of vipers she called home. Her parents sought to shelter her from the outside world but they exposed her to another horror that hid within. It didn't matter; she had no plans to inherit the title Bann of House Trevelyan unless her two older brothers suddenly abdicated or died. Her life would lie with the Chantry in Ostwick as either a Templar or a Chantry sister, leaning towards the later as she was a female and some of her family possessed quite antiquated ideas about where women should function in society. There were female Templars within the Order… but she would never be pledged into their ranks if her Uncle Florence had a thing to say about it.
"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter! Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…" A group of Chantry sisters harmonized their voices to quell any dissenters in the vicinity under the protection of a small awning from a gentle, light snowfall. Many of the gathered crowd murmured hushed prayers and a few voices hissed out curses against the rebel mages rather openly. Kassandra halted her march towards the entrance to the inner chambers of the temple in search of dignitaries and stood rooted across from the awning. Stormy blue eyes glared out from the cover of silky brown tresses.
"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood, the Maker's will is written… Benedictions 4:10-11…" Trevelyan recited in her head at the same time the priestesses called out the exact verse. The crowd gathered erupted into assent comprised of praising the Maker. "It is obvious who many of the clerics are supporting without them having to verbally admit their position, hiding behind a guise of understanding. A pity that the Chantry is blind to what mages have to offer Thedas." Kassandra ducked her head away from the harsh breeze of icy air; her cheeks flushed evidently due to the chill creeping up her spine.
"Kassie? Kassie? Kassandra Trevelyan! There you are!" Iva's familiar voice reached her hearing range, which forced Kassandra to restrain a groan of disgust from rippling its way out of her throat. The idea of vanishing into the crowd fleetingly flashed through her mind and the Trevelyan couldn't deny that the thought was rather enticing. However, her reply was cut short when a low grumble shook the temple. Panicked whispers filtered around her and something in her body screamed at her that something was very wrong here. Before her mind could process anything, her warrior instinct pushed her body into action as another ripple shook the foundation of the mountain temple. Kassandra raced straight for the temple's inner chambers and braced herself for hell unleashed.
And that was the last thing she remembered.