The night of the Coming started off as any ordinary one in Minrathous, the capital of Tevinter. The dusk was one of mid-winter - freezing. The huge buildings of the main city cast gigantic shadows far into the distance. The Grand Tower of the Magi was standing ominously at the centre of the Magi complex. It was silent, deathly almost. Inside the First Archon was busy herding his slaves into the experimental hall. He approached his assistant. "Seram, we need utter secrecy in this operation. Nobody outside this tower is to know, not even the king. He would attempt to stop us. See to it that anyone who finds out dies." he ordered. "I will prepare the slaves."

Slowly he ascended the steps into the experimental hall and put him self into a casting pose. A hundred or so elven slaves glanced nervously at him.

"Retimo, nora jersu… Knacka!" he said, casting the spell. The slaves dropped dead as one, while the First Archon disappeared with a blinding flash.

When he entered the Fade he was not prepared for what he encountered. He barely had time to blink before he was attacked by some sort of malicious force. "Foolish mortal, you dare enter the Black City?" boomed a beautiful, but wrathful voice. "After all you have done to your world I do not see how you could be stupid enough to do it again!"

Fear consumed the First Archon, he attacked everything in sight.

"STOP!" commanded the voice.

The First Archon froze. "W-What are you?" he asked.

"I am the Maker." stated the entity.

The First Archon realised what he had done. "Beg pardon, Lord. Mercy! Mercy!"

"Nay, you fool. Your kind has never been more than a blight upon the land. I had hoped releasing the darkspawn would destroy you but it seems I must do it all myself… You shall be my first kill. Be grateful for you shall not suffer like the others will."

The Archon burst into white flames, his screams pierced the eerie silence of the Fade as the Maker crossed the Veil.