A/N: Everything Dragon Age belongs to Bioware, and I love them for it. I'm just borrowing their characters for a little fun of my own.
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"Creators, Rialla! If you aren't the slowest shem I've ever met." Keeper Shia'sal groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose irritably. "Now, this is important. I hope you've been paying attention."
"Yes, I know mother." She smiled patiently at her, taking the keepers delicate hands in her own. "Shemlen though I may be, I will not bring shame to our clan." She kissed the older elf on the cheek. "I promise, mamae." She whispered. Shia'sal impulsively threw her arms around her, holding her face to hers as she did when Rialla was still a little thing covered in more dirt than the forest floor.
Shia'sal admired the woman before her. She was as true an elf as any other of her clan, save for her parentage. She never doubted that Keeper Shia'sal was her mother in every aspect that mattered. Oddly, the clan had never questioned the Keepers decision to raise the child. A scout had found the baby, laying in mud and wrapped in a tattered blanket. In doubt, he and his companion brought the child to the keeper, who took one look and declared they would raise her. Not all Dalish had forgotten the tale of Aveline, though Rialla differed greatly from the legendary warrior.
She was a menace, playful and mischievous. As dainty as any elf maiden and twice as savage in a fight as any beast. In her now twenty some years of living with the clan, an opportunity like no other presented itself. Peace. The Divine herself had called for a great meeting, a council to seek a way to end the fighting between mages and their Templar masters. She was chosen, along with Nerathiel, to go and attend. Nerathiel was next in line to be Keeper and was like a sister to Rialla, she was over joyed at the idea of traveling to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, seeing the Divine Justinia, and seeing a Templar in the flesh.
"You and Nera will need to travel light and swiftly." Shia'sal droned on, carefully collecting various blades, pieces of clothing, and string for her bow and placing them in her pack. "Stay off the roads and avoid any human contact. They may not see you as Dalish, but the will certainly see it in Nera. Her being a mage could mean death for her, and you." Shia'sal worried her hands together.
Rialla listened attentively, watching her mother pace and pick at her things she'd packed for their trip. "Mother…" She started toward her.
"Rialla, I'm terrified to let you leave!" Shia'sal half shouted, tears stinging her eyes. "What if you never return? You are not my child and yet…I fear losing you more than my freedom." Rialla carefully pulled her mother into another gentle embrace.
"You are my mother, mamae. I have no other family than this one, and I would never leave it." She spoke softly, gently rubbing her mothers' back.
She sniffed and pulled back, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know, da'assan. I know, but a mother worries." She smiled. "You've grown to be such a beautiful woman." She brushed Rialla's cheek. "Still covered in dirt." Both women chuckled.
"Ir abelas, hahren. It's time." One of the hunters stood just inside the tent.
With a heavy sigh and one final embrace, Rialla took her leave of Shia'sal. The entire clan was gathered with halla and prayers to the Creators for good luck. Nerathiel jogged over, dark brown tresses dancing freely around her shoulders and face, pale green eyes full of curiosity. Rialla kept her ashen blonde pulled back in a braided bun, her own green eyes twinkling with mirth at the sight of her sister.
The two women smiled and said their goodbyes, heading toward the north. Haven was a week away in good weather. The Conclave was in two.
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It took just under eight days for them to make it to the Haven Chantry. Already tensions were high, mages and Templar had settled on either side of an invisible line and refused to speak to one another. Rialla had noticed that there were only human men and women on the Templar side, on the mage side there were all races, even dwarves. Rune crafting was not an inherently magical talent, but with rising fears of mage rebellions even they had become targets of fear and animosity.
Elves of all kinds were present, some Dalish and some from various circles. She recognized a few of the Dalish Keepers.
"This seems so strange, Rialla." Nerathiel mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind a pointed ear. "I do not think it wise to ever have so much power in one place." She made her way through the ranks of mages.
Rialla nodded silently, measuring her words. "It's dangerous, unusual, and careless." She said softly as she surveyed the crowd. "How far is the temple from here? Maybe we could head there now and wait."
"For six days? No!" It came out more high pitched and angry than Nera had meant. "That's foolish, we could be killed up there by the soldiers. I am safer with the mages; you go have a look around." She nodded toward the trail leading up the side of the mountain to the castle like building. "That's more your thing anyway."
She didn't think much of it. Nera wasn't comfortable around most humans, but she was more comfortable around the mages. She felt a sort of kinship with them, being a wielder of magic. Her skill being the reason she was chosen as the Keepers Second. She and Rialla had been raised as sisters, neither being born to the clan and both raised by Shia'sal. In her way, Rialla never saw the difference between her and the other members of the clan. She was fleet footed, stealthy, and a skilled huntress. The only actual difference were her round ears. A physical trait she thought of as more of a defect than a symbol of her true lineage.
The trail to the Temple of Sacred Ashes was quiet. Periodically she'd spy a Templar Knight or various soldiers scouting. She made sure to watch her step near them, not wanting to cause any conflict before the Divine could even speak. To her surprise, no one seemed to mind her wandering. She took her time exploring the rooms and halls, various paintings and writings. She was instantly in love with the building and its supposed history.
As she rounded a corner she collided with a young soldier. He let out a startled yelp before apologizing profusely. "I apologize. I didn't see you."
Rialla chuckled and gave him a dismissive wave. "It's quite alright, I'm sure I'm not actually supposed to be here." The soldier nodded, embarrassed. He walked with her to the entrance, showing her the road back to Haven. On the way up was a large procession of women in chantry robes in front and behind a rather large litter adorned with white and gold cloth. She was in awe of the woman Divine Justinia represented. It was a shame she couldn't see her face. She watched until they, and their escort, had come close enough she could pass without notice. She rushed back to tell Nerathiel what she'd seen and her 'close encounter.'
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"You saw her?" Nerathiel gave her a suspicious glance as she nibbled on a piece of an apple. "Is she an ugly shem?"
"I don't know, didn't see her body, just the little carriage they carried with her in it." Rialla said thoughtfully. "I've really had very little to do with actual humans. It was a little odd to see, honestly. I couldn't tell you what, exactly, I was looking at. It was a strange ritual, all these women worshiping this…well she's just a woman, and a shemlen." She huffed, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face. "I don't understand them, lethallan."
When the day came for the actual meeting to happen, Rialla was uneasy. Hundreds had shown for this talk. Chantry Grand Clerics, who were lovely women. Templar Knight Captains and Commanders, some of the most intimidating men and women she'd ever laid eyes on. And then there were the mages. They were a strange group. Of all the different people there, they seemed to care the least for color, creed, or race. It was a common bond of magic and their shared belief instilled in them by the famed 'Andraste' herself. 'Magic is meant to aide man, not to rule over him' seemed to be their mantra. Rialla couldn't understand it, how could there be so many? Why would you put them all together in a tower like some stricken maiden waiting for salvation or death? It is a gift to be able to touch the fade, walk among it and speak with the spirits. Not that it wasn't dangerous, as she had heard several circles had discovered. Taking anything, especially magic, in vain typically meant death. Or worse.
Nerathiel straightened her tunic for the third time in less than thirty seconds, she readjusted her staff against her back, and adjusted the leathers on her legs and feet.
"Don't go." Rialla spoke so suddenly she startled herself. She hadn't meant to sound so frightened, but something felt so wrong.
Nerathiel looked up at her through her hair from her spot on the ground. "What's wrong, lethallan?" She smiled reassuringly. "I thought you'd be excited to see your own people. Are you afraid?" She asked teasingly
"Yes!" She hissed back. "But not because of them. Flat ears mean nothing to me, despite my current-" She waved a hand over herself. "predicament. Something else is wrong. Please, Nera. Please do not go." Rialla was near panic, the knot in her stomach growing by the second.
Nera laughed her musical laugh and let out a plaintive sigh. "Dear little sister, we promised to observe and report to our clan. We will only stay as long as we have to and then we will race home, fast as a fennec." She stood slowly, gently brushing Rialla's hair away from her face. "You worry too much, da'len."
Rialla leaned into her hand and took a few measured breaths. "I know, you're right." Nera took her hand and led her toward the Temple.
Once they reached it they were ushered in by Templar Knights. Enchanters, Chantry clerics, and various knights of the Order were milling about, waiting for the Divine to show herself. Rialla felt her skin crawling, breaking out in a cold sweat and a fit of nausea. She excused herself and went to find a room less crowded. She knew of a rather large room with a sort of altar in the center. At one point a relic of some kind sat on display there but now was nothing but an empty room.
She turned a corner, nearing the room. There was a noise, a strangled cry for help. Slipping into the shadows against the wall, Rialla crept forward. She heard it again, a muffled cry for help and a deeper, more guttural voice that was sure to haunt her nightmares for years to come. Her fear spurred her to action and she broke cover and ran down the hall, throwing the heavy door open.
"What's going on here?!" She was instantly terrified and furious. She'd never seen the woman crying for help before, but she knew in her heart of hearts that it was the Divine, the woman who would have united all of Thedas.
"Run, warn them!" She called out in her heavily Orlesian accent. Rialla would have done just that but for the creature standing before her. Tall, hideous, and Creators it looked like some sort of blighted man. The skin on its face twisted and pulled back leaving a portion of his teeth visible, eyes burning into her, and magic like she'd never seen before in her life. He pointed one long talon like finger at her and ordered them to attack, the Divine used the distraction to try and break free, startling the creature enough it dropped a large ball that seemed to be made of stone. It rolled to Rialla's feet and she impulsively picked it up. If that walking terror wanted it she'd take it and run.
But she never had the chance. As soon as the object touched her palm she felt a strange power surge through her. A scream of pain and terror like she'd never known was ripped from her. In that moment, she was flooded with a terrible sorrow. Nerathiel was just down the hall, just out of reach…and soon would be gone forever. The moment of hopelessness and the agony of defeat nearly ended her right there. There was a flash and then darkness. When she opened her eyes a moment later it was dark and cold. The air was saturated with magic, crackling around her. She glanced up through the murky dark and saw a figure standing at the top of a hill, beckoning to her.
The fear hit her stomach so hard she could have sworn she'd been punched. Creatures crawled out of every corner of the dark, chittering and hissing as they tried to catch her. Rialla ran, panting hard and struggling to find her way in the murky darkness. She looked up, the woman was right there. She slipped as she stretched her arm out to reach for the hand held out to her. In another flash of green, painful, light she collided with stone. Voices shouted something she couldn't quite make out as several hands lifted her and she fell into darkness.