SUMMARY:
In my life, I have been associated with many gods. The shem called me the Herald of Andraste before giving a Dalish first the title of Inquisitor and trusting me to lead the Maker's faithful. Before then, I took on Mythal's vallaslin of my own free will once I came of age and fought to preserve the People's history. At the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I was marked by another. Yet never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined falling in love with the Dread Wolf, let alone bearing his Anchor upon my soul.
Fen'Harel used to plague my dreams when I was a bare faced child. The last time I dreamt of the Great Trickster was before I had pledged myself to Mythal, my vallaslin bringing me the security of fearing no other god but the All Mother. To have the many eyed beast before me after so many years of peace shook me to my core. Gleaming blue black fur that hid pockets of wicked fangs and crimson eyes stretched as far as the eye could see, blotting out the alien landscape of the Fade and even the ever present Eternal City.
But Creators, he had so many eyes...
While in the nightmares of my youth I had only glimpses of the monster, now it grew even as I gazed upon it. Wolf, they may call him, but my manifestation of Fen'Harel was something much darker.
"Be gone, demon." My voice was steady even as I trembled.
"T'was you who called to me, da'len," the darkness hissed. A deep chuckle reverberated through me as it pressed closer, crawling over my skin. "Your face is claimed in Mythal's name, yet it is my power you call upon. Curious." The great mass of the Dread Wolf shifted around me, crimson eyes ever transfixed upon the green brand that marked my left hand. "No. You don't call upon it. You bear it as if it were your right." A snarling mouth appeared, jaws clamping shut around my wrist and wrenching a scream from my lips. "But will you survive your hubris?"
The magic in my hand erupted in fiery agony and I would have fallen to my knees save for the Wolf's jaws holding me aloft. Emerald light spilled between the beast's fangs and when a tongue lapped along the brand, I nearly black out from the pain of it.
"No! This isn't how it was supposed to happen!" The creature sounded at once confused and enraged, the darkness twisting faster and the canine maw that was still wet with my blood howled. "It was not your pride that called to me, but his. How can this be?!"
As quickly as it had begun, I was released and collapsed into a heap on the ground, shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
Fen'Harel's many eyes finally turned their gaze away from me, staring instead at the giant swirling mass of green in the sky off to the distance. The shadows slowly began to retract until the great shadow was replaced by a masculine elvhen figure with the Dread Wolf's crimson eyes. The aura of hostility and simmering rage I had been overwhelmed by just moments ago was gone as it approached me, yet I still shrank away when it reached out and took my branded hand.
I flinched, expecting the fiery agony from before to reignite. Slender elvhen fingers ran the length of my palm, a soft cobalt magic flowing from his fingertips to disappear into the mark. The throbbing pain subsided slowly, and I dared to glance up at the creature.
Fen'Harel possessed no consistent features save those crimson eyes, the shadows that made up his face ever shifting. Unlike before, there was no hostility in those eyes; only a deep sorrow.
"And so the wheel of fate turns," he said softly. His voice was no longer a primal snarl, instead soft and accented in a way that reminded me of my old hahren. "It seems I must reassess my plans." The Dread Wolf lifted his gaze from my hand to my face before releasing me and stepping away. "What shall become of you, I wonder?"
"I...don't understand."
"It isn't for you to understand, da'len." The shadow turned away from me, sounding weary. "Wake up."