Note; This story is a sequel on the stories "From Dirt", "From dirt 2" and "Chains of Blood", as such, some things are best summarised first: Alistair died killing the archdemon, Lynn Tabris, hero of Ferelden, is also dead, Leliana and Zevran are dead. Fenris, Carver, Bethany, Hawke's dog, Aveline and Anders are dead. Hawke romanced Merrill and sided with the mages at the end, Hawke and Varric never encountered Corypheus. Anora rules Ferelden. Chancellor Roderick has here been changed to Chancellor Rowyn for plot-reasons.
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"And Eileen spoke unto the masses; My heart is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours. For all who walk in the sight of the Maker are one."
Marie, kneeling on a prayer rug, kept her hands clasped and her head down in prayer. Though not as devoted an Andrastian as some of the Chantry, even she had to admit to a feeling of otherworldliness in the temple of Sacred Ashes. It was hard to imagine that somewhere, deep within the temple forged out of the very mountain itself, the remains of their most holy prophet lay, a pinch of which would only be bestowed on the most worthy of pilgrims.
Divine Justinia had done it, of course she had, Marie knew none more dedicated and worthy of her holy vestments. Marie herself had never tried. She had heard tales of the trials, and those frightened her. More importantly, however, was the fear of failing, or rather, the repercussions. If Marie was ever to rise to the rank of Mother or Grand Cleric, she couldn't be known as one who was denied the Sacred Ashes. Ambition might not be a virtue in the chants, but Marie was lower nobility and so one born into it.
Plus, I'd really like my own private room...
Chastising herself, Marie shook her head and closed her eyes tighter, she must not be found lost in thought, not within the great cathedral built just outside the temple, especially not when Divine Justinia herself was somewhere deep within the building. Marie had been specially chosen as Chancellor's Rowyn's assistant at the temple itself, and Justinia herself had taken her to the cathedral to wait for her as she dealt with some newly-arrived guests...Marie's good service was expected, and an excellent one might be rewarded.
Racking her brain, Marie picked a chant at random. "Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder."
Justinia impressed Marie. Despite the Divine's age, she was up before most brothers and sisters, and she stayed up when most went to bed, and not for prayer or fasting, but constantly moving between meetings, tirelessly working, even now, in the middle of the night, she was striving for peace. If anyone could calm the tempers of the templars and mages and make them come back under the fold during the negotiations, she could. And anyone proving instrumental in this might find herself on the rise. Maybe as a mother in chantry in Val Royeaux? Not Ferelden though, I hope, ugh, no prospects here.
When the door at the far side of the cathedral clicked open, Marie jumped in fright and guilt at the unexpected sound. Then, annoyed, she turned her head.
The cathedral was magnificent in height and breadth, curving pillars holding up an immense vaulted ceiling painted a midnight blue and bedecked with glittering jewels to create the impression of a night sky. The floor, covered in mosaics depicting various scenes from the Chant, was a polished mirror shine and all along the walls coloured windows and banners of silk displayed the wealth and magnificence of the Chantry, a Chantry that had built the Cathedral in front of the temple in little more than two years. Just another achievement intended to awe.
Yet such finery was forgotten by Marie at the moment as she focused her gaze on the lone visitor boldly walking up the centre aisle. For a moment, she considered having the woman thrown out, but then she noticed the emblem stitched on the woman's velvet tunic and raised her hand, stopping the two silent templars – two of the few still loyal to the Divine – from leaving their posts at the door leading to the Divine's chamber.
Marie, quelling her annoyance, instead let herself consider the situation carefully. Only a moment was needed...then she was smiling, welcoming. One of the Trevelyan's, Maker be praised, they're filthy rich, some say, and have so many cousins and contracts in the Chantry that they're said to know everything that goes on within it. Making a friend of one of them...forget a becoming a Mother, I might become Grand Cleric right away if I play my cards right.
The night was shaping up, and Marie smiled pleasantly as the woman now approached a little less boldly, perhaps realising she was interrupting something. The simple design of the heraldry stitched to her tunic, a golden key crossed with a silver sword over a flame, betrayed the woman as belonging to the main branch of the Trevelyans, the ones nigh on ruling Ostwick and certainly in charge of all minor branches of the family. It made Marie all the more happy to see her. Maker be praised, your will is for me to get acquainted with her, surely?
The woman wasn't a classical beauty in any shape or form. Tall, taller than even most men, she had to be standing at a full six feet by Marie's estimation. With her high cheekbones, narrow chin and oval face, she had some good features, but her lips were thin and her pale blue eyes had an eerie quality to them, not to mention that her already too tall body was more muscle and bone than curves. Worst was her blond hair, it had been shaved on both sides, leaving the top braided into a long tail reaching down to between the woman's shoulder-blades.
She looked more like one of the Qunari mercenaries hired as guards of the conclave than a noblewoman.
Marie, smiling at her, not about to reveal such thoughts, found her voice pleasant enough. Soft and melodic, surely trained, the noble stopped short of coming up next to the priestess. "I'm sorry, I'm not interrupting, am I?" The woman made no move to leave, nor to impose.
"Not at all, child, come, sit, the rug is big enough for two." Scooting to the side, Marie allowed room for the other woman. At twenty-five, Marie couldn't really be the mother of a woman that looked the same age, nor did she have the vestments to be able to call anyone 'child', but the Trevelyan didn't seem to mind as she with bowed head knelt down on the rug. "I'm Marie Nowara, servant of the Divine." Technically, everyone in the Chantry was, and Marie was more under chancellor Rowyn's charge than anyone, but it always helped to present oneself as important. "And you are, Miss Trevelyan?"
"Anna." The woman replied, bowing her head in greeting before turning her attention to the centre altar whereupon a massive golden statue of Andraste, eyes turned to the heavens, in her flowing dress stood surrounded by crimson flames made of bloodstone. "Forgive me, I did not mean to interrupt your prayers, I just had trouble sleeping."
"And so you came here?" Marie asked, intent on learning more about the woman.
"Would not you?" Anna replied, offering a smile before looking back to the image of Andraste. "Father sent me here on behalf of my family, and I have followed the Divine's instructions in making some members of the Circle and Templar order talk things through...it's worth reminding myself of why I do it, no?"
"For the Maker?" Marie queried, intent on figuring the woman out before committing herself. "Or for peace?"
"Peace is a reward in itself, and all we do is for the Maker's sake." Anna replied with conviction, the woman bowing her head, muttering a low prayer, a worry-line Marie hadn't even noticed disappearing from the woman's forehead at the words. "Maker willing, we will succeed."
Marie, shifting where she knelt, she'd been on her knees for far too long, smiled. "Ah, you think we'll succeed in making the mages see reason then?"
Anna's smile was polite...and all too revealing that Marie hadn't struck right. "I...hope that all will see reason, yes. I have a large family, and many members are both within the Circle and within the Templar order, so I have very personal interest in stopping the fighting. As father put it, it won't do to have family killing family." A little chuckle escaped the tall woman at that before she shrugged, gaze drifting away, back to Andraste's face. "It just seems like a waste, and the willingness of so many to waste their lives away in this pointless fight is horrifying..."
"I agree, the war has gone on for far too long." Marie agreed, sensing she was coming to an understanding of the woman. Confide in me, please, I can become your friend. "It's such a senseless war, with no rhyme or reason. How do you think the sides will be made to understand to come back under Chantry supervision?" If Marie could forward such ideas to the Divine, they would be equally hers and Anna's, and Marie could do with the Divine paying her more attention if she was to rise in rank.
"That's the thing, there is sense to it. As I said, I have family on both sides, I know why both have done what they have." Anna sighed, bowing her head. "There is no making them anything, all that can be done is to alleviate grievances until both sides feel comfortable talking peace. There are too many long-standing issues to simply bring them back with some vague promises." Then the woman shook her head. "Forgive me, I did not come here to talk about the things keeping me up. Would you mind praying with me?"
Marie bit down a curse of annoyance, by not talking, how could she make a friend out of Anna, and praying was exceedingly dull after a while. Of course, she would have to humour the woman if she was to stay in her good graces...
"Of course, will you lead? Or shall I?" Let me do it, and I'll pick a short Chant.
To Marie's frustration, the woman's answer came with a prayer as with pale blue eyes glittering she fixed her gaze upon floor and clasped her hands together. "And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars." Threnodies? Maker, no...of all the Canticles... "We dreamed of false gods, great demons, who could cross the Veil into the waking world, turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you."
Mentally sighing, Marie lowered her head and fell in. "There was no word. For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky, all that existed was silence."
"Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, the first word." Anna continued, her whisper holding a melodic quality usually reserved for the Chantry choir's. "And His Word became all that might be." Under their knees, the ground suddenly shook, making Marie look up. Earthquake? Maker, hope it was but a little tremor... Next to Marie, Anna continued, unperturbed. "Dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities. And from it made his first born."
"And he..." Marie, again, found the world shake, harder this time. "Maker, did you feel that?"
Anna smiled, not looking up. "It's in the Maker's hands, Marie." She, still smiling, continued as if nothing had happened. "And he said to them; in My image I forge you. To you I give dominion over all that exists."
Then, the floor cracked in front of them, a spike of dark green metal jutting out, eldritch energies coursing around it as the whole cathedral seemed to twist on its own axis. Marie, staring at it in horror alongside Anna, could only mutter. "By your will. May all things be done..." Then she was on her feet, screaming. "We have to get out of here!"
All around, there was now screaming, outside the cathedral, inside it. Green lights flickered around them, appearing and then disappearing like ghosts. By the door, one of the templars was screaming, twisting and turning as he clawed at his helmet, as if something had gotten inside it. The other, slumped onto one knee, was coughing, what seemed to be fire shooting out from his visor. Impossible, completely impossible, it's a dream, it's all a horrible dream...! Marie took a step back, trying to make sense of what she saw.
Ahead, the statue of Andraste herself was twisting into something else. Eyes once turned to the heavens were now melting, golden tears running down her cheeks even as the mouth twisted into a savage grin full of pointed teeth. A dream, it must all be a dream...I fell asleep while praying, it can't be real, it can't! Marie coughed, the air suddenly full of black fumes, fumes that seemed to reach for her, reaching hands of darkness. So like the ones who'd come from under her bed when she was little, from the closet, from the blackness whenever it was bedtime...
Marie, pale as a ghost, took yet another step back, shaking her head in denial. No, no, can't be happening, I'm older now, I'm not...I'm not...
The dark hands, uncaring for her mute protests, began to claw at her.
Yet in the background, above the din of screams surrounding Marie, she could hear Anna's voice. Though strained by fear, the tone was clear and humble, singing the chant with an emotion Marie had never managed. "Then in the centre of heaven he called forth a city with towers of gold, streets with music for cobblestones, and banners which flew without wind."
Marie felt a great urge to join in, to fall on her knees and pray for her salvation, for rescue, for her sins...
But the hands were reaching at her, black as night, cold as ice, and Marie was only a little girl.
She ran, screaming.
Then she coughed, the scream drawing in the fumes, and the black hands with them.
She screamed louder, stumbled as she ran down the aisle, then fell onto all fours, clawing at her stomach as icy black hands tore at her from the inside, filling her with the darkness, with the cold. With nothing but the fear and the desire to escape it.
She saw, rather than felt, her skin smoulder and turn black...and shrieked in terror, her cry joining that of hundreds as they cast their eyes upwards.
Behind her, the song was but a whisper. "There, he dwelled, waiting to see the wonders His children would create..."
Above, Marie saw the Black City rise
Then she saw nothing more.
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Cassandra grimaced against the cold wind blowing against her, but unlike the men at her back, she held back her complaints. Her escort was all that Cullen could spare, half a dozen of the newly forged Inquisition's recruits Cullen thought could do well since they were some of the few who knew how to ride. Given their lack of training, however, Cassandra felt more like she was the one doing the escorting. Still, she understood the reasoning behind giving them some experience with official business.
The organisation was in its infancy, the brain child of Justinia and Cassandra following the Templar order forgetting its duties and annulling the Nevarran Accord. With the conclave in full swing, Cassandra hoped the order would come back to the Chantry and make the formation of the Inquisition needless. But if it didn't succeed, she fully agreed with Justinia's assessment, political and religious power was all well and good, but the Chantry needed a military arm if it was to stop the chaos that had engulfed Thedas.
In fact, the organisation was so new that Cassandra in her satchel carried the newly written orders from Justinia making its formation legal. So far it was but a patchwork of recruits paid for and outfitted by the Chantry. With no name or purpose, the writ, however, would give them both. The number of recruits was staggering though, partly because no standard had been implemented on them and partly because the chaos following the war and the Chantry being the only ones seemingly willing to stop it had ensured a steady stream of people willing to learn how to handle weapons.
As such, the Chantry would soon have a large force at its disposal, if not a very skilled one.
Maker willing, it will not have to come to pass though.
Cassandra turned in her saddle, looking back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes which she had come from. Even at a distance, forged into the mountain, it was an impressive sight, making the much smaller Haven to which Cassandra was riding to look like a sty in comparison. Still, at least there were honest people down in Haven, with a minimum of fuss and politics, unlike the temple with all its dignitaries...
Cassandra shot Justinia a brief prayer. Andraste guide you in that nest of vipers and let us be successful in-
The temple shattered.
Like a dropped glass of crystal, the magnificent structure simply shattered, walls and mountain both splitting into pieces that were sent hurtling in all directions. Within, a green light pulsed, then grew, shining right through the still falling debris and dust as if it was nothing.
The sound, the boom of the explosion, reached them a moment later in a rush of hot air that made the horses whine and rein back in shock. The recruits with Cassandra were like her though, silent, staring, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Before them, the green light pulsed faster, rising like a star, the mountain-top above it simply breaking apart before it, pieces the size of houses swirling around the growing light before fracturing into gravel, torn apart by powers magnitudes above anything Cassandra had ever witnessed. The pulsing light was by now sending out bolts of green lightning, and wherever they struck the ground, more green lights sparked, like flickering stars compared to the sun.
And the sun of green light itself continued to rise, touching the very heavens, making the clouds around it swirl and crackle with the promise of a storm.
And still, the light pulsed and grew.
Slowly, the shouts of her recruits reached Cassandra's ears.
"What shall we do!?"
"What happened!?"
"The Divine! Is she dead!?"
"We should go look!"
"Are you crazy!? We would die!"
"Coward!"
"We need the others!"
"We need a miracle, more like!"
They echoed Cassandra's own feelings all too well. There was a vice around her heart, squeezing it tight, drawing her to turn her horse around, towards whatever she was facing. The Divine, no...maybe...maybe she's just hurt, buried beneath the debris...
There was no denying her eyes though, the whole temple had been not only shattered, but levelled, nothing remained standing. No one could have survived that...all those people...
Cassandra felt the others go quiet, staring at her, waiting for orders. She ignored them, wrestling with her own thoughts as she was torn between sense and loyalty. I should go get Cullen, ready the whole lot of them for whatever comes.
Something might have made it, she could have...if I could only see it for myself, maybe...figure out...I...
The devastation before her mutely killed all wishful thinking and desires though.
Duty it is then.
Snarling, Cassandra wheeled her horse around and urged it into a gallop down the narrow path. Down towards Cullen and those he commanded, down to get help.
Justinia, I'm sorry...
Guilt in her heart, Cassandra silently swore revenge upon whoever had caused the explosion.
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for being sherlocked.