The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel. This story is a side to the other story, A Match to Tinder.

- x x -

- Kirkwall, Lowtown

Sebastian:

Making my way through the lower parts of Kirkwall to find and hire some mercenaries, I wanted to weep for all the dead and soon to die in this dark chaos. The unholy light shining from Hightown told me not only had the Chantry been destroyed, but other parts of Hightown were burning. Fire could not spread far with all the stone, not as it could in other cities. Hightown was far above the stink of the harbor, but it was also far above the water to deal with fire.

I was no assassin that I could defeat Hawke and that abomination on my own. The Templars were already busy with the Circle, and I was unsure about the loyalty of the guard because of their Captain. I needed mercenaries, and quickly. If I could find a strong group I might still catch up with them before they could fight their way into the Gallows.

The abomination must pay for what he did. Elthina was a good woman, better than Kirkwall deserved with all the corruption and blood magic that flooded this city. I felt some guilt that I had not convinced the Grand Cleric to leave for her own safety. The Maker-cursed mage had murdered her.

Void take him and Hawke too. How deeply had he controlled her and for how long? She'd spoken to Elthina with me about her leaving not that long ago, the abomination silent as the guard captain for once.

Was that when he thought of it? Maker, no!

I avoided looters and violence when I had to, and executed some who insisted on visiting violence on those weaker than they.

Wanting to help suppress this mage rebellion, I saw no mages as I crossed from Lowtown to the docks. The only ones I saw moving around were thugs, mobs, and small teams of watch.

A watch still holding to their duty when their captain had abandoned them. In some shadows deep enough to hide my armor, I realized I hadn't thought enough, done enough, and prayed enough that Hawke would remain stronger.

Something was very wrong with the Knight-Commander but with her gone, nothing would stand between Hawke and the Viscount's throne. I'd even told her she should take it, the more fool, me, when her lover was that... thing. A mage controlling Kirkwall from behind the throne. The thought made me ill.

A breeze brought me the smell of burning, even if I could not see or hear anything. This rioting was endangering all, for the power of the mages.

Taking a brief rest, I prayed. I prayed for the Grand Cleric, now at the Maker's side. I prayed for all the mothers, sisters, and brothers who had passed while in service to Him. I may not have known as many by name as I once did, but they were my family, too. I prayed for all those who'd been visiting the Chantry for prayer or advice as if it were a normal day. And I prayed for the souls who had sought shelter from the coming storm within those walls.

My resolve firmer, I forced myself to pray for Hawke's soul. I regretted that I didn't know when it had happened, when the caring woman became the puppet of that maleficar. Still, that would not stay my hand when I found them.

I didn't understand it, I thought Elthina and Hawke were friendly. I thought Hawke and I were friends. She'd been a good woman when we met in the Chantry. What magics did he use to change her, mayhap a desire demon?

I threw my thoughts away from that image with a prayer... back to earlier.

That mage was sitting on a crate, relaxed, as if some kind of throne, and he not in any danger for what he did. His bare back showing his arrogance. Maybe he was confident that Hawke was fully under his sway, that she helped cause this... cataclysm. Innocent blood was dripping from his hands, and she would not execute him for his crimes.

He had to pay... for... for Her blood, a better woman than anyone in the cesspit of a city. Maybe because Hawke'd led us for so long or his magics enforced his will on the others, but none of them would help kill the abomination with me. Not even the elf Fenris who had claimed to hate magic.

My mind was free. How bitter was the knowledge that they did not act. I had to get away, to regroup and make a true justice for all he killed.

I had to close my eyes for a moment, as Hawke was usually the one who chivvied them into benevolent tasks. It was a foul taste that I, as a Chantry brother, could never sway them to do the right thing.

At the Hanged Man, I stopped to look for mercenaries, but I only found one who looked trustworthy, not enough to reinforce any surviving Chantry forces. Seneto was a dwarven warrior, who didn't care anything about why there was fighting in the city, just his ale and fee. I could abhor that, even as I offered a ring as a deposit for his services.

Still reeling, I didn't even try to haggle with the warrior. We hurried to the docks where I hoped to confront Hawke in their mad plan to stop the Knight-Commander. But they had left in at least one boat for the Gallows, and were out of sight. I would not catch them in time, and one mercenary was not enough to even slow them.

For the next hours I scoured the lower parts of Kirkwall, hardening my heart to all the chaos that had erupted. Some guards were still on duty, but I had seen no templars protecting the city or rallying the people of the city against the mages. I visited every tavern, even a few places where some of the more reputable mercenary or gang leaders did business, but none were 'available.' Some even laughed in my face, but Seneto backed me up enough that laughter was all they offered. I had forgotten over the years how hard it was to acquire help in Kirkwall, I'd had what I needed for the asking. I hadn't made or maintained any contacts of my own to help me, a grave error now.

I'd looked over the harbor's waters, between visiting taverns or shady alleys, half expecting an explosion akin to what still glowed in Hightown. I didn't hear or see one, and it was late afternoon when a different light began to glow over the water, an angry reddish color shining from above the Gallows courtyard walls. I heard murmurs rippling as I tried to find a better vantage through the gawkers who'd paused. Something echoed across the water but it wasn't more explosions and the Gallows' tower seemed intact.

At an overlook, I realized the booms I heard were the sound of metal hitting stone, with a weight and deep echo heavier than a fallen Chantry bell. And it was repeating not just once, not dozens, but hundreds of times for how long I'd been hearing them now.

The echoing sounds were almost mesmerizing, as I could almost see shadows in the light and shapes moving in the distance, but that was absurd with the walls still in the way. The smoke and dust from the ruins and rioting were obscuring anything we could see from this distance.

What foul magics had the abomination and other mages produced? I wanted to know what had happened when the red light flared once more and then faded away. The last of the echoes stopped endless seconds later.

What happened?

That was what the few who watched instead of being in hiding were asking, and the streets cleared even more in the next minutes like a storm was still to break after that battle.

I would not find mercenaries now, so I sought the harbormaster's office. This city was a pit of evil and I must bring a force in the Maker's cause to cleanse it. I must retreat and build my army somewhere else.

Elthina deserved it.

- x -

A/N: This story is very much for reconciling Vael and his contradictions from canon. Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.