For this story, I will be using elements from numerous religions - including Ancient Egyptian, Latin and Wiccan. And let me tell you, translating Latin into something semi-understandable is hard.

I don't own Dragons Dogma or Dragon Age blah blah blah...

This has been edited at the end.

~0o.o0~

"Well met, Arisen." From beneath her glowing hood, Amara mentally sighed at the new Arisen's slight awe. How many times have I greeted a new Arisen? "I'll not waste time on rhetoric: defeat me, and take my place as keeper of this world."

Lifting her arm, she splayed her hand, revealing the world beneath them. "You saw it awaiting you at the end of your descent. Aye. The same world you've travelled to arrive at this place. A world you may well now inherit." The new Arisen stepped forward, but she raised a hand. "It is a simple proposition. No different than any you've faced."

She hurled the Arisen away, the motion of flicking her hand automatic. After three thousand years, Amara hoped this one would prove themselves. "You need only the will to claim what is offered you." She stood, feeling her magic curl around her hands. "... The will to survive!"

With that, she sent a wall of light at the woman, watching in indifference as she barely dodged. At this point, Amara let her mind wander, her body going through the moves. Within seconds the new Arisen — What had I named her? Callisto? No, that was the last one... Calida, that was it. Not that names really matter anymore, she'll die anyway. Calida was slowing down, each pause between swinging longer. Young, too young to be doing this. "What is it that impels you? What force spurs you on? What sustained your wonderings and led you here?"

Amara thought of what had been her answer when she was the Arisen. I have come here for power, Maker. I will rule, no matter the consequences. She had been young, naive and power hungry back then. She hadn't considered the consequences dire. By the first century, Amara realised no matter what she did with her powers, she could not stop the eternal ring. But she was stubborn- she wouldn't give up that easily.

She didn't bother dodging as the sword dragged across her skin, the cloak and flesh ripping but soon fixing itself. All this, merely a game. Utterly boring. She vanished as she went to strike again, walking behind her with a swirling black orb. The warrior stared at her, wary.

"Consider... The infinite potential..." Amara murmured, turning her palm downwards, the black and green orb staying on her palm. She dropped it, her magic curling across it and shaping it into the Arisen before her. "Just as you call forth pawns, so I command all life into existence. Call it divine creation if you must, but expect none of the mercy men seek in their gods. This is cold truth. The unbending reality of a world without compassion."

A push of her hand, and the new creation hurtled forwards. "The world and all its denizens are but empty vessels. In that regard, no different from the pawns..." A ball of fire turned the new creation into a burnt corpse, and Amara grimaced at the smell. "Without volition, there is no true life. The world falls stagnant, dead as an ocean with no current to guide it. The volition is tempered by the struggle for survival. The decision, just like yours, to fight. Just as the pawn's need a master's command, so the world thirsts for the will to live."

This time, Amara didn't hold back her magic, the wall of light sending the Arisen flying. She sent wave after wave, not pausing in her assault. The fourth wave left the Arisen on all fours, panting as she curled into herself. In all honesty, Amara was disappointed. With one final wave, she died.

The world appeared beneath the warrior, but Amara paid no attention to her becoming a dragon. Instead, she walked over to another world that had opened. The world beneath her was rich of life; humans, elves, dwarves and horned people. There were cities, towns and villages — more advanced than the ones here. She knew that if she ended the eternal ring, this could be their future. A prospering future, but with its own demons.

She watched as the land changed to a civil war, to a dark haired girl fighting a horned person, to a bright flash of green and warriors and mages fighting. There would be pain, there always was, but Amara knew this future would have no more Arisen's. No more Dragon.

But what if your death is the reason so much chaos happens? A voice whispered. What if your death will cause the same destruction Grigori's did?

Amara swallowed, watching as the world — their future — disappeared. The Dragon's death had resulted in half of Gran Soren being destroyed, killing many innocents. Men, women... Children. Though the cycle would end with her death, she feared everything going down with her. The thought of destroying innocent lives left a hollowness in her heart. If she was going to end the eternal ring, she wanted to be there to stop the aftermath.

With a sigh, she walked to her throne; it was a comforting support to her wary body. She tapped at the armrest, wondering what she should do.

I need someone to take over when I die. No, not one person — the weight of this burden is heavy. I can barely handle it myself. I need to create a group of gods, each with their own role to play. A group of light, one of darkness, and demons. The demons I saw need to originate from somewhere. Maybe a hierarchy? One person to rule one race, then a group who puts their words into action.

I need to ensure I survive... A trip to a few abandoned, ancient dwellings will give me answers... Amara paused, a cold dread coiling around her heart. I need to find something so I can keep my powers. If I become mortal, I will turn to dust. Maybe my willpower will be enough? Hm, no. I must take precautions.

~0o.o0~

The time in her domain was hard to judge — she had no light, nor had darkness to judge how much time passed. She used the Arisen's to work it out- they typically came to her every two weeks.

Amara guessed at least a month had passed, with how thorough she had been in her planning- thank herself (can't really say Maker when that's you) for not needing sleep. Ryder had been resistant at first, but soon warmed up to her plan. He knew the eternal ring had to end sooner or later. Two more months of going over the ritual in detail and deciding on the new leaders of the world, and they were ready. The ritual would be easy — both herself and Ryder are fluent in wyrm speak.

"Everything we see," Amara murmured to her companion, "will be able to finally prosper. This world will start anew. It will be ruled by four people and their companions, each with their own purpose." She hesitated. "Ryder, I need to ask you... I will need you to say the incantation, but when I finally wake... will you join me in the new world?"

"Of course," Ryder said, smiling. "I will always be by your side."

Amara smiled back at him, taking a moment to studying him. He was a reflection of her. Being half Elven, Amara was lithe with tanned skin, gold eyes always darkened with a wise sadness, and mid-length auburn hair. Ryder towered over her, muscles rippling under bronze skin, obsidian eyes watching for the smallest movement, and black hair a mess atop his head. Where Amara was steel hearted from centuries of learning the hard way, Ryder made sure to draw out her softer side when needed.

"Thank you. I have decided to destroy all but one Riftstone. The pawns will no longer be needed in this world, and they will live in another. I've already sent them off. I created a small... pocket dimension. A place where they can live in their own world, and not have to die when I begin the ritual. You will go with them, but the Riftstone will glow when it is time to come back. Shall we?"

Ryder nodded, and they both travelled to the Conqueror's Sanctuary, just west-south of the Eradication Site. They stood at the second highest hill, where a hidden cave was. Amara took the lead, using her magic to move the boulder that hid the entrance, and walked inside. The cave was medium sized, magic runes across the walls, roof, floor and boulder so it would not collapse in, or anyone, except Ryder, enter. A stone bed stood to the far end, with a thick layer of soft materials on it to ensure she would wake up without a stiff back. Runes were carved into the bed to ensure she would stay warm through winter, and cool through summer.

Unsure of when she would wake up, the large basin of water at the right had been etched with runes to ensure it would stay fresh. The same runes had been put on a container of food, next to the basin. A Riftstone stood to the left, with a chest that held her armour. Her Hallowed Dragon archistaff And two Sapfire daggers leaned against the chest.

In the middle of the cave, a large pentagon had been carved into the floor. A white candle sat at each point, representing the Five Archmagicks. A stick, the Godsbane, and five bowls sat in the middle- three of the wooden bowls held ox blood, wyrm blood and the third soon to have hers. The fourth was a copper bowl, with a strand of her hair and a simple amulet made of ancient ore. The fifth held salt.

"Well," Amara said, sitting in the middle of the pentagram, "It is time. Pass me the bowl and stick, please."

Ryder obeyed, handing her the objects. Placing them down beside her, Amara used the foreign knife on her waist to cut her palm. With how quickly her body healed, she had to repeat the process a few times before there was enough in the bowl. Satisfied, she handed the bowl to Ryder, who placed it back where it had been. Her magic soon had the stick alight; Ryder hesitated, but took it.

Amara laid down, making sure not to hit anything. She felt exposed, only wearing a Bliaut and brown laced leggings. The copper bowl was moved to above her head, while the three bowls of blood stayed at her right. The bowl of salt sat at her left. She looked up to where Ryder stood above her, noticing the crease between his brows. "Are you ready?"

Ryder nodded. "I am."

"Then let us begin."

Nodding again, Ryder lit each candle, whispering a prayer to each element. Once finished, he grabbed the bowl of salt, gently letting it fall around the pentagram as he chanted in wyrmspeak.

"Ter circum circulus vinctum (three times around the circle bound)

Corrumpere ab deme (Take away the corrupt)

Sic fiat semper! (So mote it be!)"

Amara swallowed, feeling the magic around her lighten. Goosebumps scattered across her arms, hairs raising from the thickness and power of the magic. She could feel some unknown weight pressing her down, making it slightly hard to breathe.

Placing the bowl down, Ryder kneeled next to the copper bowl. Wrapping the strand of hair carefully around the amulet, he began to chant again.

"Quod serviemus quasi phylacterium praesidium (that will serve as a talisman protection)

Is mos protegere te ab omni malo (it will protect you from all evil)

Er Redemption Spaulders aliquid vel defendat adversus quis vult nocere Amara Ward (the Talisman protect against anything or anyone wants to hurt Amara Ward)

Nemo potest removere ad ligaturam cucurreris (No man can remove the amulet)

Et custos semper manere phylacterium (the guardian talisman stay forever)"

The pressure had gotten worse, increasing as the amulet was placed back in the bowl. Amara swallowed around the lump in her throat, willing herself to calm down. Her heart thudded against her aching chest. Her body shook, hands and feet tingling. Focus, focus, oh God...

Amara tilted her head to the side, watching as Ryder combined the three bowls of blood. She forced her body to relax as Ryder dipped a finger into the bowl, drawing the symbol on her Bliaut. The blood felt like fire, scorching through her clothes and burning her skin.

"Crassum sanguinem, pugnatores crescere lassus (thick blood, fighters grow tired)

Mundi sequitur, liberum ab aeterno anulum (the world goes free from the eternal ring)

Hoc mundo renati (this world reborn)

Hoc tempore oblitus, nunquam ivenitur (this time forgotten, never to be found)

Solum unun hoc manebit (Only this one will remain)

Eorum potentia manet in morte et vita, sed nunquam deprehendi (their power remains in death and in life, but never detected)"

Shadows played at the edges of her vision. Amara could barely make out Ryder's shape, and the Godsbane in his hand. The buzzing in her ears muffled the final chant. Electricity danced across her body, making it tingle and go numb. She felt as if she was floating.

Pain.

It seared her chest, cracking bone. She could hear muscles and nerves gouging together, heartbeat slowing. Her throat burned. The pain seemed eternal, darkness and light flashing across her vision. Stop, stop, please! I want it to end!

Bones grinded. Muscles came back together as the Godsbane left. The wound was quick to heal, bones cracking into place. The numbness was a welcome sensation, spreading across her chest and encircling her limbs. With a sigh, Amara closed her eyes and fell into the comforting darkness and dreams.

~0o.o0~

Four guardians had been created, each holding a piece of her power.

Hermia was the first. Amara took her time creating the guardian of dwarves, only realising later how similar she had made the dwarf to an old lover. Hermia was short and stocky, blonde hair framing a strong, pale face. Bright blue eyes stood out from the blue-black markings. Barely a month will pass and Hermia will manage to earn a deep scar across her left jaw, her blonde stubble growing around it. Many would pass her off as any other dwarf - passionate, stubborn and a strong constitution. Though true, Hermia held a high intelligence, using her outer appearance to blend in. Secrets were never safe from her, and Hermia tended to forget that most people were sensitive.

"My Maker. How may I serve you?" They were the dwarf's first words to her. It was filled with such reverence, both words and eyes, that Amara teared up.

Kneeling, Amara cradled the familiar face. "You, Hermia, my eroque tecum (kindred), will be the guardian of dwarves."

"Only me? Alone? Will you be there, my Maker?" Bright blue eyes dimmed, becoming glassy.

Amara hushed her with a kiss to the forehead. "Of course I will be there, eroque tecum, as often as I can be. There will be times I cannot be there, though. But you do not have to be alone — you feel the knowledge of creating beings, yes?"

"I do, my Maker."

"Please, call me Amara." Smiling softly, she stood up. "Now, whilst you think and create your own people, I will get started on creating on the next two people."

Hermia nodded, walking away to have more room. Amara had created her domain again, finding it easier to do this in a familiar place.

Summoning her magic, Amara set upon creating the guardian of humans — Valdus. He was built for archery, with defined muscles beneath darkened skin. His dark grey hair was parted at the side and slightly shaved, with stubble covering his jaw and neck. He did not strike her as being a person big on markings — his bright green eyes, and scar across his left eye that would come in a few months, stood out enough. Subtlety was never his forte; he much preferred to be up-front and honest. He was compassionate towards his people, as to him they came first.

"I live to serve you, my Maker." A passionate loyalty resonated through his first words. "What is my name?"

Amara smiled, lifting a hand and tracing just under his left eye. "Your name is Valdus. You are the guardian of humans. Hermia, the guardian of dwarves, is over there. Please, go and speak with her while I create the guardian of elves."

Valdus bowed to her, turning on his heel and introducing himself to the now smiling Hermia. Smile widening, Amara set upon creating the last guardian.

The guardian of the elves was named Fen'ghilanas; Guiding Soul Of Wolves, though Amara knew she would refer to him as Ghilanas in the future. He was pale, tall and slim, with light grey-blue eyes that reminded her of her husband, and mid-length, half shaven dark brown hair. He would be prideful, flirting a lot, sly and fiercely protective of those he considered friends.

Fen'ghilanas took her hand, kissing it whilst locking gazes with her. "Your wish is my command. What is my name and purpose, my Maker?"

Amara forced herself not to shiver. Do not get distracted so quickly! "Your name is Fen'ghilanas, the guardian of elves. Please, go and say hello to Valdus, guardian of humans, and Hermia, guardian of dwarves. I have to create the last guardian."

Fen'ghilanas kissed her hand once more and left. Shaking her head, Amara focused on the last guardian — the guardian of the Qunari. She called upon the dragon, noticing the three guardians stare in shock as a large, red dragon landed and bowed before Amara.

"Calida," Amara greeted. "I have summoned you back to the living to ask if you would like to be the guardian of the Qunari."

Calida rumbled in thought, finally nodding. "Aye, I would be honoured. May I request for a human form, similar to this current one?"

"But of course." With that, Amara wrapped her magic around the dragon, changing her. She gave Calida strong features with pointed ears. Her skin was a tanned brown with a slight red hue, scars littered across her face, shoulders, arms and back in a pattern similar to scales. She still had the same horns.

"Gold eyes would put others minds to rest," Calida suggested.

Amara nodded, changing Calida's eyes from red to gold. "Perfect."

After that, Amara started on the six groups of Gods and Goddesses.

The first had been what was now known as the Old Gods. Their leader, Dumat, had been merely an alias of Calida's. Amara has already seen their future, and it was only a matter of time before she had to curse them to death.

"Please, Amara, do not kill them." Calida's gold eyes shone with unshed tears. The pure emotion on her face shocked Amara. Calida always wore full armour, screaming from head to toe demonic dragon. Now, the helm was removed.

Amara sighed, nodding. "Alright, da'isenatha (little dragon), I will not kill them. Instead, they will be cursed to eternal slumber until needed."

The relief was instant, Calida's shoulders dropping as if a huge burden had been removed. "Thank you."

The Old Gods would serve another purpose anyway. Most of the Qunari had settled into Par Vollen, so Calida stayed there to watch over them.

The second group were now known as the Forgotten Ones, who were created by Fen'ghilanas. The amount of members were soon forgotten to the world, but Amara and Fen'ghilanas remembered each and every one of them. They had all been created by the world, with barely any connection to him.

The Forbidden Ones had been the third group created. Four unique and powerful demons, their source of creation unknown to mortals. Amara had struggled to create such beings, but knew they were needed to keep the world balanced.

The fourth group were Hermia's children — the Titans, or as many knew them, the "pillars of the Earth". The earthquakes were far and in between, though a small war had broken out between Hermia's and Fen'ghilanas' children. Sorting it out had been a messy business.

The fifth weren't created through her, but influenced through Valdus. She had given him permission to let the title of Maker be his, curious to how her shield brother would have this path of the Chantry go. Though, Valdus had a weakness for blonde mages; mainly the woman known as Andraste. Amara had liked the woman- passionate and a born leader, characteristics that Amara found pleasing.

The sixth group had only two directly connected to her, while the rest barely did. Elgar'nan the Allfather had been Fen'ghilanas' and Amara's first child. He had a twin, though the memory of said twin was hazy. Amara had drawn upon the moon to create Mythal the Protector, before she fell into slumber. Watched as their six children joined them, creating a world of prosperity.

Solas, or Fen'Harel, was Amara's and Fen'ghilanas' second and last child. He had been born three days before her slumber. Amara had seen his future; the joy, the pain, the regret, the madness. Born immortal with powerful magic bestowed from his parents, and soon blessed with godhood. Being only a spirit at this point, Amara could do nothing as she watched Fen'ghilanas abandon Solas to a clan, too focused on their first child. Out of all of them, the pale elfling had been the only one she visited. He would never see nor hear her, but would feel her presence. Centuries of peace passed before Amara knew it was time to let him continue alone, knowing what would happen to the Elven pantheon and the Forgotten Ones. After what they did to Mythal, why would she stop him?

She could do nothing in her non corporeal form, anyway. And being non corporeal and unable to defend herself, she never expected her own lover to curse her.