Cassandra Pentaghast couldn't shake the unease in her gut.
Of course, everyone was uneasy. No one was comfortable about having the mages and templars under one roof together. Throw in the Chantry, several prominent nobles, all the security that came with them, and you get a massive headache.
She eyed everyone who crossed the Temple's threshold with suspicion. The mage leaders with their staffs and secrets, the templars with their arrogance, the clergy and nobility with their intrigue. Everyone brought something to the Temple, and the mixture of it all made Cassandra's skin prickle. She doubled the guard, increased scrutinization of the guests to the summit, and oversaw everything herself.
Leliana's people had been working round the clock for months ferreting out the slightest rumor of any danger at this Conclave, and Cassandra caught glimpses of them around the Temple scanning the crowd with ever watchful eyes.
But all the security in the world couldn't make Cassandra feel any easier.
Justinia dismissed their concerns, more out of an attempt to settle nerves than anything. She was an intelligent woman, well aware of the delicacy of the situation before them. Cassandra trusted her, there was no question about that. What Cassandra didn't trust was the ability of everyone to come to an agreement. The templars and mages were equally stubborn, she sincerely doubted either would concede to even one of the opposing side's demands.
She doubted they even thought this would turn out well.
The Inquisition was truly their best hope at this point, if the Conclave didn't work.
The day she left the Temple for Haven with Leliana, she had looked back to see Justinia patiently listening to one of Fiona's lieutenants. Catching Cassandra's eye, she smiled reassuringly. That gentle smile lifted even the heaviest heart, and Cassandra forced herself to relax.
If Justinia was comfortable, everything would be fine.
Yes, everything would be fine.
She squared her shoulders, took her hand off her sword, and left the Temple- and Justinia- for the last time.
It was sudden, ripping through the lives of everyone without prelude or warning.
The lives of countless men and women blown to pieces in a matter of seconds, the great plumes of smoke contrasting with the strange green of the gaping hole in the sky. Reality around the Temple ripped asunder as the Veil tore open, a never ending tide of demons painting the snow even redder with the blood of the fallen. Cullen led soldiers into the Valley in an attempt to stem the flow, but they never stood a chance.
Cassandra swore never to underestimate the power of fear after that day.
It gripped everything- squeezing the life out of terrified soldiers fighting a hopeless battle, choking Haven with the ash of their dead leaders, and freezing the rest of a world that could only watch.
Cassandra was better than fear. She wouldn't wait, not on her life.
Before the dust cleared, she was trekking up the mountain with her soldiers, prepared to dig through the ruins with her bare hands if it meant finding who was responsible.
And she would find them. Maker help them when she did.
They burst in the ruins of what had been the Temple, swords drawn and shields up, but nothing but burnt corpses and ash greeted them.
And that awful silence. Dead silence.
Cassandra filled it by barking orders, having them spread out over the expanse of the Temple to scour it for something, anything.
Cassandra didn't get the chance to be impatient. A shout sounded off the ruined walls, and suddenly everyone was sprinting towards the source of the sound, fumbling for their swords and shields as they ran.
Cassandra pushed through the small throng of troops, greeted by a ring of soldiers circled around… an elf?
"She stumbled out of a rift, Seeker," one of the soldiers explained, "Collapsed immediately."
"A rift? What do you mean?" Cassandra demanded.
"Ummm-" The soldier shifted uncomfortably, "It looked- it may have been just me, but it looked like there was someone else."
"Someone else."
"All of us saw it, and-" The soldier paused as the troops murmured assent. "There was some woman behind the elf. We couldn't make out who, Seeker, but there was definitely someone there."
Cassandra heard him, but whatever woman in the Rift was the least of her concerns. Here, she had the sole survivor of the explosion. The sole survivor of hundreds.
She moved closer to the collapsed elf, studying the person behind all of it.
The elf lay curled in on herself in a crumpled heap, clad in green mercenary robes. Delicate white tattoos curled like vines around her cheekbones, contrasting sharply against her bronzed brown skin. A staff accompanied her- abandoned a few feet away. The lines of her face and her dark red hair were streaked with ash and sweat, but Cassandra committed every feature to memory as she studied this sole survivor.
This murderer.
"Take her weapons. Bind her hands. Bring her to Haven."